Some days are made for pajama pants...

They really are. It has nothing to do with weather - either the meteorological or the physiological kind.

It has to do with comfort. And time. And a sort of meta-physical relaxation technique known as "lazy."

Today's one of those days, and really, pajama pants are the only answer.

They are just so - easy. We all need a little easy in our lives from time to time, right?

I know I do.

I feel like I've been pushing rocks up hills for the last few weeks. Not that anything's been that difficult lately, just that my schedule's all off schedule and I, believe it or not, am a creature of habit.

It's not that I'm not spontaneous or can't enjoy the odd bit of surprise. I LOVE surprises - even more when they are real surprises. Nothing spoils a surprise more than someone telling you they have a surprise for you. I find that extremely annoying. Vulgar, even. Makes me want to say ...

But yeah, pajama pants. They are the bomb.

They necessitate a certain level of slovenliness that is essential to our (okay, MY) peace of mind. Which is way harder to find than a piece of mind, especially if you know me. 

So, the house is clean. The book is back in my editor's hands. The grocery shopping and laundry are done and it's a beautiful day outside. I might even venture outside. Unlikely, what with the pajama pants and all (I do have a sliver of decency hiding away somewhere) - but that's not the point. 

Uh, I'm not sure there is a point, other than every one needs a day when they can just say "fuck it," verbally or otherwise, and pajama pants are contrived for exactly that sort of day. When I was a kid, we used to call those days the "terrible yuckies."

We've all had them. You know, the sort of day when you don't feel bad, in fact, you feel sort of alright, but you just don't feel like doing anything. You just can't quite find the give-a-damn to make you get up, get dressed, go to work/school/wherever and you can't quite explain why. Yeah. Those days. Those are the days made for pajama pants. 

Look out couch, here I come.