Sleep with my day

Having been chaise lounge bound for the last seven weeks, I know the meaning of sleep with my day. If I’m tired, I cozy up and fall asleep. If I’m not tired, I cozy up and eventually fall asleep. I still do the routine parts of life – tend to my personal hygiene (this lame arm lost skill is improving with each day), Gladys Kravitz (a routine that started seven weeks ago), and catch up on all of the news while wondering to myself, “What day is it? Do I have things to do today?”

About a month before being curbed I found a public transit pass, purchased for me by my employer and used once, maybe twice. About a month after being curbed, I started using it. The main reason for doing so was my niece. She had stayed with me a few times during the day and, not one to just turn on the TV for the kids and go about my day, I planned adventures that involved walking. Being of lesser leg than me, this strides were big and exhausting for her so we opted to take the bus – an adventure she loved. “I want to go on a vacation on the bus, but with less stops,” she told me. I’ve thought about doing that before – riding an entire route and then riding it all the way home again.

Our stops were typically near public parks and, once there, my niece played hard. As a result, her clothes were always filthy. One day, while chasing the ducks, she slipped in the mud near the pond and landed in it. When you’re near a duck pond there is more than just mud in the mud and she hit it all. Being that we didn’t have a change of clothes, we gave her an innercity country style bath in the creek that ran through the park.

Once at home with her parents they encouraged her to take a bath, but she didn’t want any part of it. “I sleep with my day,” she told her mom and promptly fell asleep, her day in tow. Nothing wrong with sleeping with your day – I’ve been doing it for weeks.