What Day Is It?

Here is the thing about working weekends– is not working the weekend itself that is so bad. It is the following week that messes with you. I am going to work for day 11 today! Woot! I think it is Thursday? Luckily, I really do enjoy (most) of my coworkers and boss(es) company, so the pain of working many days in a row is reduced in that respect. I am not just saying that because they read this. (Hi Pam!) I also do not plan on pulling a Dooce and getting fired for what I write on my blog. I don’t have that kind of ammo anyway, unless Pam starts ordering Prada online and talking loudly about it, causing others to stop taking her seriously.

So today is the last day. Four-day-weekend is almost here, and it will surely make up for this week.

Yesterday’s Daily Picture of Happiness was my bed. I crashed pretty early, and couldn’t be more pleased about it. I debated about featuring my pajama collection as the DPH. I really don’t need more acronyms in my life, but there you go. I own more pajamas than I own real clothes. Can’t get enough. Always thrilled to get more. Probably have 14 pairs of PJ pants. Mind you that I only have 2 pairs of jeans in the current rotation of real clothes. I may need to remedy this imbalance now that I really consider it. It kind of paints a picture of laziness, but it is really just an obsession with being warm in the long winter. If I had to plan a quick escape or pack for a plane crash on an island, I would likely bring along an ample supply of PJ’s, a bag of chap stick, and my camera.

Bedtime! And yes, the bed is made everyday. I hate an un-made bed.

Bedtime! And yes, the bed is made everyday. I hate an un-made bed.

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One response to “What Day Is It?

  1. Pajama love. Something we have in common. I have far too many, too. Of course, I get to work in my jammies because I’m self-employed. Once I had a nightshirt with cats all over it. The doorbell rang and rang….a courier was delivering something and wouldn’t just leave it. I threw on leggings and answered the door just like that. I’m sure courier man knew it a nightshirt.

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