The Sunday Naps are Holy to My People

Ever since I’ve become an adult, my entire schedule has revolved around Sunday.

There’s the church component, sure. In the beginning, when I was practicing to be a reclusive crazy cat lady, Sunday was often the only time all week that I’d physically touch another person (Peace be with you). Choir, meetings, potlucks, those all take priority on my schedule on Sunday.

Then there’s the Sunday Nap. Which is also a priority. It’s usually between 3-6 hours long, and makes up for all the late nights. In the old days, those late nights were from studying and/or working, now they’re just ’cause I’ve discovered late night TV.

Everything in my week looks foward to Sunday. I *like* going to church. I *like* sleeping. Sunday’s a day where I have both of my favorite things, usually back-to-back. Sunday is a good day.

So now I’ve been poking at this hypothetical situation in my mind for a couple of weeks: what if they came out tomorrow in the newspaper with irrefutable proof that Christianity is a hoax, that there is no God?

Welp, I’d probably drink a lot that first night.

I’d like to think that I’d continue on continuing on being a good person, whether out of a belief that even one small person doing a few small things is making the world a better place, or because I’m too lazy to change my ways. I’d have some more free time to play videogames (I will beat Halo 2 without resorting to cheating, I will!) Sundays would have no purpose, though. I could sleep away the whole day, if I wanted to, but it would be that gross, I’ve-been-in-bed-too-long kind of sleep that I always associate with being stuck home sick.

Are we done poking this?
Hmmm… *poke, poke*
Yeah, seems to be done for now.

So let’s do the flip: The newspaper tomorrow has gigantic headlines GOD EXISTS! JESUS CHRIST WALKED THE EARTH! How does that change my life? How would I act differently?

Welp, I might indulge in one or two “I told you so!”s. Then I’d probably do a lot more praying, and be a lot nicer to people, and… um, stuff.

Stuff I should be doing now, right? Since I don’t need newspapers to tell me this, right?

Right?

*poke, poke*

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