In NYC, it was a frigid, frosty day. Your writer, not taking this serously, for after all, she had survived Binghamton winters, replete with near frostbitten fingers and toes, went out to swim, dressed only in leggings and shirts (albeit covered in a parka). She braved the three blocks to the Y. It really was cold. It really was a hostile environment. She did not wish to be so chill. So, when she got up to pool level, she chatted with the front desk people, saying, "What a shame it was that their pro shop didn't sell sweat pants."
Well, dear reader--turns out they do. Just not on display. I bought a pair. At a reasonable rate (true, no pockets, but still--sweats).
After swimming, I donned them and went home.
And I don't want to ever leave them.
Perhaps you are aghast--What--she never had sweats?
Well, I had them off and on. (Not like the joke--she offered her honor, he honored her offer, and all night long, he was on her and off her). In those halycon pre-pandemic days, I would take them traveling with me to foreign parts, where the motels tended to be underheated at nights. So I wore them to keep adequately heated. Then,
when packing to leave, I tended to throw them out, as somehow, gosh, my suitcase had more objects than when I came in. So, I would jettison the sweats.
In any event, I haven't traveled since I returned from Israel on 1/6/20.
Here, I tend to wear my scrubs. But scrubs won't do on a day like this. So, sweats
I have never worn anything so comfy. I understand that many people wore these as work outfits during the pandemic, but not me. When I am at work, I am at work. I wore my work clothes (okay, I wore my comfy socks and went shoeless). In fact, sometimes I wore my evening gown and my party dresses. On Zoom, no one can discern that I am draped in blue velvet).
Tomorrow, I have to take a CE class on neuropsych and creativity. I know exactly what I will be wearing. And the camera will be off.
I don't want to ever leave this house. I don't want to ever leave this couch. I'm wearing my comfy pants, sitting on my comfy chairs. And I'm not expecting the Spanish Inquisition.