The solitude of pajamas

I had a rough night last night and a busy day today.  So when I got home tonight, I decided that I wasn’t going to cook a proper meal.  Instead, I traded my work clothes for jammies, turned on the TV, and hopped into bed and, besides making myself a sandwhich with a side of baby carrotts and laying out my clothes for tomorrow morning, I’ve been here ever since.  I’m warm, I’m cozy, and I’m seeking whatever comfort I might be able to find.  Hell, when I’m done with this post, I’m going to go downstairs, heat a kettle, and make some dern hot cocoa to enjoy while I watch last night’s DVR of 90210 (don’t judge).

What is it about being able to come home, thrown on jammies, and call it a day?  What is it about their sweet siren song that I cannot avoid? 

The way I figure it, since I can’t afford a mental health day, I have to create my own pockets of relaxation when I can.  Now, if you’ll excuse me…I got some vegging to do!

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