Houses in Daytime

All houses are haunted. This much is obvious, though in this case it has nothing to do with ghosts.
This haunting works when you have a day to yourself, and you want to spend it inside. You actually don't want to do anything, for whatever reason; you need to catch up with yourself, you want to read, or draw, or just sleep and relax after another too-busy week at work.
Maybe it's a sense of guilt - that you shouldn't be 'wasting' your time just mooching about the house, and you should be doing something 'productive'. You don't want to do anything 'productive' though... the idea of sitting down to do a drawing is anathema...
I got up about 9:00 am and relocated to the living room, where I flicked through a graphic novels (reprints of Captain America and the Avengers). I couldn't relax. I should be doing something else. I tried watching television, a programme about World War II. This was quite interesting. I felt guilty watching it. The walls of the living room seemed to close in on me. I went back to my room, slept for a while. The air seemed full of grays, full of too many shadows. Outside seemed too cold to venture out despite the sun. I had lunch. I listened to music. I went back to sleep again.
By the time I got to leaving the house, at about 4:00pm, to meet Al and Claire at the Evening Star, it felt the house was haunted by a sense of... something. A sense of waste, of time going by too quick, and a certain heaviness in the air. I had had a headache all day, but within five minutes of leaving the house it had gone.
It was also bright and sunny outside, and felt like spring. I wished I had left the house earlier. The house seemed colder than the outside.
On the bus I thought about the flat, those dark, shadowy rooms, always cold and full of a soporific lethargy.
I've never got the hang of houses. Not in daylight anyway. By the time night falls, they seem perfectly habitable again. This haunting only works in daylight.