Yesterday, I literally slept the day away. Yes, I’m using “literally” correctly.
About 13 years ago, I worked the night shift (11:30-7:30) at a hotel in my hometown. My grandparents also live in the same town, but my grandpa never seemed to grasp that because I worked nights, I had to sleep during a large chunk of the day. He would frequently come by at 10-11 AM and, when neither my mother (who also worked nights) nor I would answer the door, he would pound on our bedroom windows until someone got up. Inevitably, he would also castigate us with “you’re sleeping the day away!” Eventually, we threatened to go over to his house at 3 AM and pound on his window until he woke up, then tell him he’s “sleeping the night away.” We all knew that because he was going deaf, it would wake my grandma up before he noticed; however, we must’ve sounded serious enough because he stopped. Mom and I still tell this story and, now that I’m a “day person” most of the time, I use “You’re sleeping the day away!” as the name for my alarm.
As a person who has both physical and mental illnesses, there are days that I can barely get out of bed. It happens. Sometimes, I am in either too much pain or just simply lack the motivation. Especially now that I am not working and on Disability. I’ve had to learn to be kinder to myself. I’ve had to learn to count small tasks like getting up, feeding the pets, feeding myself, and brushing my hair as major accomplishments. I’ve learned that, sometimes, sleeping the day away is exactly what I need so that I can do more the next day.