A wasted day

It grew dark, and they began to wonder what they had done with the day. Not nothing, surely: most of them were sore all over, and those that weren't were sore in the head at least. But when they looked, they couldn't see where all that soreness had gone. The darker it got, the harder they looked, and the less they saw; until they collapsed into sleep, and the sun rose. It shone on everything they had built, but none of them were looking.