Does anyone remember when I lost my damn mind on pajamas? It was almost as if it was my way of trying to get more sleep. Waking up at ten till five these days so I can make it out to King of Prussia in the six o’clock hour and consequently ditch out in the three o’clock hour and avoid as much traffic as possible has been brutal. Nevertheless, I horde a stack of napkins in my car so when my hands inevitably get clammy from intense traffic, I have something to help me grip the wheel. A literal Jesus Take the Wheel sitch, if you will.
Back to the pajamas. Who does not want to look chic while sleeping? A few weeks ago, I was not feeling my best and called in sick. After being up all night and going back and forth from the bed to the porcelain throne, I slept into the late morning until… I heard a succession of beeps and then, in a women’s calm recorded voice, “Please evacuate the building. Take the stairs. Do not use the elevator. This is not a drill.” It took me awhile to figure out where in the hell the voice and the beeps were coming from. Finally I figured out that it was the speaker above our bedroom door, which was previously unbeknownst to me.
Once I got my bearings and put on a pair of pants, I gathered and threw my iPad, iPhone, charger, and bra into my hologram bag. A race down to the stairs and out the door and… it was a false fucking alarm. The gentlemen doing construction the tenant space at the ground floor tripped the alarm.
Had I been wearing one of these sets, maybe the panic would have been lessened.