Night For Day

So it's ten minutes to four on a Wednesday afternoon and I just got into my pajamas.

If someone comes to the door I will tell them I am sick, but I'm not really sick. I'm just at that in-between time of the day, you know? I have been waiting to take off my jeans since I packed myself into them at 8AM. It seems excessive to put on a whole different set of clothes just to wear for a few hours until bedtime. I'm not the gingham housedress or the satin dressing gown kind of woman, and it's too cold to just throw on a pair of shorts and a tank top. If the weather were unseasonably warm, and if I lived alone in a windowless house in a community of blind people, I would consider being naked while I passed the hours until bedtime but let's be serious: I would hate a windowless house.

Still, I feel weird sitting here in my pajamas, especially since the end of Daylight's Savings (or was it the commencing of it?), the sun is nowhere near setting. It reminds me of when Karen and I were kids and our 8 o'clock bedtime during summer vacation meant we had to go to bed in a room full of sunshine. Remember how weird that felt? Kinda creepy, really.

No, wait. The creepy part was that our neighbor was a perv and used to look in our bedroom window.

I think I wrote about that neighbor family of ours back in previous blog posts. Karen and I were embroiled in a decades-long feud with the kids. If one of us had fallen in love with one of them (oh yuck. Spit three times and throw a chicken over your left shoulder), it would have been straight out of West Side Story. Only it was the San Fernando Valley. And the weapons Karen and I carried were our cunning and Van De Camps chocolate chip cookies hidden in our pockets (for sustenance). Karen was the brains of the operation which, if you recall from previous posts about the fact that she didn't even know what a hymen is until, like, five years ago, might explain why we never tasted victory. My job, if photos from that era are any clue, was to stare worshipfully into my big sister's face and pick my nose until it bled.

This all comes back to me now, sitting at my desk in my pajamas, waiting, oh, about four and half more hours for the sun to go down.

Which brings me to my point: I need new clothes.

Comments

[debbie robinson]

i get in my pj's everyday after work at 4pm - is there something wrong with that? if so, i don't give a shit!

[Gail Feinstein]

I got you beat, honey. If we are not going to go out of the house in the nighttime, which is most nights, BTW, I get into my sleep clothing at 2:30 whenever I get home from work. And I have tons of big windows. If the doorbell rings, I ignore it. UPS can just leave whatever it is on the damn porch. So there, don't you feel guilty. Sleep clothing and no bra is payback for having to put up with the rest of the world the rest of the time, I figger.

[Madge]

I am in my jammies most days as I work at home. If I run errands in the morning I shower and put on makeup and then when I get home around 2pm I put on jammies. If I don't go out until late afternoon I am in my Jammies until I get dressed to go out. My neighbors have seen me more in my jammies than close. I do pick great PJ's to wear and some I can wear out to my trainer or to walk in my neighborhood. I try to do my hair and I always brush and floss. Loved the story Ann.

[Adva]

I say save your clothes for when it counts.

[yochi]

sometimes, my school has pajama day...

jenchi