On Sunday I made a last minute decision to spend the holidays at my parents’ house in New Mexico. I packed up Tammy and we hitched a ride with my father (he was in the area on business) for a twelve-hour trip along IH-10 (El Paso, I love ya, but you’re slowing me down). I was (well, still am, actually) very torn about leaving P for what will be our first Christmas apart in the six-and-a-half years that we’ve been dating (cue today’s round of teary-eyes) but the consensus among minds other than mine was that a change of scenery might do my stalled-out dissertation some good. (Here’s hoping — the thing is due in London in less than a month. A lot less.) So here I am, hanging out in my favorite house in the world, in what are essentially glorified pajamas. Oh, you didn’t know? It’s cold here. Not like, Minnesota cold, but definitely doing-its-part-to-freeze-me cold.
Seriously — I’m about to take a blogging break to go stoke the fire. (Well, not really, because I’m probably going to bed when I finish this. Thinner air makes you sleepier, or something?)
So anyway, I’ve got to stay warm, and I justify this outfit by telling myself that I’m just about to take Tammy for a walk and so of course need to be dressed and ready. Right? Heck, I may even sleep in these pants just to get a jump-start tomorrow. Thus we conclude that laziness can in fact result in efficiency (so long as no one stands too close to me). Hopefully P will provide the polish, so that I can continue with the putrid.
Now tell me, dear ones, do you slack off sartorially at the holidays?