I am wearing pajamas. Still. All day now.
Actually, I took a shower & changed into new jammies about an hour ago.
I even ran to the Holiday Store for magazines wearing said outfit.
Don't care.
People and Glamour were calling my name and my motorized bitch/car had a fresh jump (too cold to go & get a new battery- I can wait). When I need magazines, I need magazines.
I usually make fun of people that do this, and in fact I did just that yesterday at lunch at Punch Pizza with some douchebag that was wearing obvious jammy bottoms (thin cotton, striped, drawstring waist) and a pastel sweatshirt. But, c'mon, running to your local ghetto gas station in said outfit is fine- if not expected- but going to lunch & ordering a bottle of wine seems a big enough event to PUT PANTS ON for christ's sake. If I go through the trouble on a -20 degree day to put a bra and reasonably good jeans on, I don't want to see your ugly, lazy ass with your dingle-dangle rolling around in your kleenex-thin pants while I'm trying to eat my Vesuvio pizza and drink my Saturday afternoon glass o'vino.
I may need a Sunday-evening glass to help erase that memory.
Or two.
2 comments:
I could MAYBE see pajama pants on a guy if he was just walking out to the mailbox. Warm up pants? Generally acceptable for a Chipotle run. Subzero temperatures? Sit down restaurant? Jeans are a must.
A rolling around dingle dangle. Yeesh!
The grocery store by my house has a regular parade of pajamas & slippers. It's amazing how low our standards are that fuzzy slippers = shoes.
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