It’s one o’ clock Sunday morning and I’m heading to bed after laughing so hard I could barely breathe. After being asleep for what felt like two seconds, a blinding ray of light pierces through my window and the only thing it seems to be shining on is me. “Great,” I think to myself, clearly wanting a few more hours of sleep. I glance at the time and to my surprise, it’s already 12:30 in the afternoon. Just as my favorite Saturday Night Live cast member Andy Samberg did in the now viral short “Lazy Sunday,” I had woken up “in the late afternoon.” While I wasn’t planning on going to see The Chronicles of Narnia as Samberg was, I was hoping to spend my Sunday as leisurely as possible. What gets me through my week is my belief in lazy Sundays.
I’m the oldest of four kids in my family, so it’s always assumed that I’m the “responsible” one. I don’t mind the title, but I never seem to catch a break. In high school, my days were typically spent juggling clubs and every AP course my school had to offer. When not at school, I could either be found at a local 4H meeting or event, assistant coaching a little league baseball team or assistant coaching an AYSO soccer team. Home life for most typically includes some “me time,” but in my life, that was not the case. Most of my time was spent doing homework, taking care of my three younger siblings, cleaning the house, and occasionally even cooking dinner.
By the end of the week, I was more worn out than a horse that had just completed the Kentucky Derby. Thankfully, I wasn’t the only one in my home who felt this way. My siblings were involved in just as many activities as I was and my parents worked full time jobs. Similar to the Christian religion, my family treated Sundays as a day of rest. Dad and I spent the afternoon lounging on the couch watching ESPN while my mom and siblings relaxed and played board games. At the end of the day, we consumed our larger than usual dinner – a tradition that to this day takes place every Sunday.
After moving an hour north to San Luis Obispo, things haven’t changed much for me. Sundays still symbolize relaxation. For the most part, my Sundays here are spent, well, in bed. I can walk around the dorm in my pajamas and slippers, not caring what anyone thinks. While I know my appearance can be compared to that of an undead zombie, I take pride in upholding a family tradition that has been going on for as long as I can remember.
Back at home, Sundays represented family togetherness I would otherwise never experience throughout the week. Here in San Luis Obispo, they represent my much needed “me time.” Without a Sunday to relax, my busy schedule would overwhelm me more than I could ever imagine. When I imagine what type of person I would be without these lazy Sundays, all I see is a sleep deprived, stressed out, grumpy girl. Joseph Addison wrote “Sunday clears away the rust of the whole week.” Waking up at 12:30 on a Sunday afternoon wiping the crust from my eyes, I couldn’t agree with him more.
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