As I've posted before, my Sundays are pretty simple: church, lunch, nap, different food, TV, more food, more TV, bedtime. Admittedly, Sunday laziness is not that different from my current everyday laziness, except for the nap. I don't really nap on weekdays; although I totally could, I just...don't (I think I may be wasting my time of unemployment. I'm now rethinking things...). Also, going to church and doing my media job is actually more work than I do during the rest of the week put together. Which is very pathetic, but true.
Ever since I was a small child, Sundays have been a day of rest. I mean, it's not like there was some kind of Sabbath Code enforced in my house or anything. But after church, we usually gathered for a large-ish meal. And then we would all scatter to parts of the house to do our own thing: watch TV, read a book, do homework, whatever. There was always the expectation that whatever we chose to do would be quiet. Because, inevitably, someone would be napping.
Mom would "rest" her eyes, which really meant a nap. But some kind of magical nap in which she still knew what was going on in the house and could coherently answer the pestery questions of children who apparently did not understand the notion of LEAVE HER ALONE SHE'S SLEEPING! She rarely scolded us--she just answered the queries patiently with her eyes still closed. It wasn't until many years later, I realized that, though her answers were coherent, they were not always conscious or remembered, which was QUITE a trick. Dad would usually settle into the couch with a book or something on the History Channel. And promptly snooze. And all of us kids, in one form or another, would end up with a small rest or full-on nap. When I was younger, I fought naps--it nearly drove my nap loving mother out of her mind. But by early high school, I craved them. And Sundays were ALWAYS nap days.
When I got to college, I had ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD to nap--I had hours between my classes and I never thought to use that time for studying. But I learned pretty quickly NOT to nap, if I wanted to get to class on time and sleep on a regular schedule. It's kind of embarrassing to show up to a 3:45 pm class with pillowcase lines on your face and bleary eyes.
But Sundays? Oh, Sundays. Even when I wasn't going to church (because public transportation was really difficult for me) and the dorm was NOT all quiet and restful like my parents' house had been, Sundays held a strange sleepiness for me. It was like my body knew that it was Sunday, the Day of Napping. It REQUIRED a nap every seven days. It was weird. But who was I to deny my body what it needed?
Now that I live back in my hometown and I refuse to go to bed a sane hour for no good reason other than I'm stupid, Sunday naps have become a staple. Sometimes, Sister and I have naps for lunch on Sundays, instead of food. But since I've been sleeping until 11:15 most days recently, I decided to forgo today's nap in the hope that I will be extra tired tonight and will go to bed earlier. Because I need to spend ALL DAY tomorrow working on my NaNoWriMo novel, which kind of got forgotten over the holiday and is all the sudden TOTALLY BEHIND and I feel like I'm never going to finish by Wednesday. And writing ALL DAY is not nearly as effective if the day STARTS at NOON!
And this is why Sundays are the hardest blogging days. Because the only topic I can think of to post about is napping. Which is like a snooze-fest of words and letters. You're all probably napping by now. Which, if your Sundays are anything like mine, I guess you should thank me for... Yeah, still boring. Because I want a nap. And Sister IS napping. And I'm sleepy. And nothing else really happens on Sundays. Sundays are hard. When NaBloPoMo is done, I'd like to continue with daily posts. But I think I will use Sundays as a Blogging Sabbath. It will be better for all of us. I will get Sundays off and you won't have to read the drivel I try to come up with for Sunday posts. We all win. You're welcome.