Let's wake up and go back to sleep.

The week has started again. Its Sunday for the 32^nd time this year. And its today that we realize how many 24 hours is: what mornings and afternoons and evenings look like not having to experience them inside the filmed glass of our offices.

The luxury of sleeping in late, we lie inside our covers trying to catch that dream that was disturbed by the ring of the daily newspaper. Our hair scruffy, our eyes snoozing, our nightgowns wrinkled and still the first thing is to look at ourselves in the mirror. And the first thought: when we can get back to our mattress.

However my Sundays with family have always been a pump more bouncy. Breakfast, lunch and dinner are the delights of the day. Watching the television together, making plans of an upcoming holiday,  cleaning, grocery shopping, everything has a zing of family flavor to it.

Our baths are the longest, our afternoon naps a sequel to our sleep, and then there is the self time. We analyze and reflect and contemplate, perhaps brood over. We plot and plan and ponder about the past week and the coming one. Our thoughts start with “from today I will..”. No harm in them being idealistic, at least positive. And that’s what our minds needs after the sugary nibbles throughout the day. Because we are allowed to.

We sing in the showers and watch the same movies for the 100^th time, we go out and shop or dine out. In the morning we break the seal to our newly bought products for our body. We do mani-pedis, we wash and give attention to our hair and skin and nails. The inclination to grill out under the open sun, a bottle in our hands, and chatter while we update ourselves with the game scores becomes the afternoon. A walk by the pond or feeding the cranes with bread is the evening after which we head out for dinner at our favorite restaurant.

Our Sundays are usually filled with our favorite music, with people we love, the shows we watch most and phone calls to our second families. Its today that we live away from the paper shredder , the copier, and the company’s annual records to the kitchen, the living room and our couch.