bliss in turtle pajamas

I’ve spent all day in my pajamas. Even when I went to the post office to mail a package and to the grocery store and the Chinese takeout, I still wore my pajama shirt.

It’s long sleeved and completely decent, lest you think I’m walking the streets in some kind of Pretty Womanesque halter or something.  No, thank you.  It’s too cold for that crap.

The minute I hit the door, the turtle pajama pants went back on.

It’s freezing cold here. It’s raining, which is wonderful because it’s droughtland here.

I thought the day would be spent out in the world, going to movies and shopping and trying desperately to stay warm.   Instead, I’ve spent my day on the big overstuffed yellow couch, trying desperately to stay warm and eventually succeeding with two blankets covering me, watching the Hallmark channel.

I’m not even a little bit kidding.

I’ve watched basically every one of those “Love” movies…Love Comes Softly, Love’s Unending Legacy, Love’s Attempt to Completely Take Over the Schmaltzy Made-for-TV Movie Market, Love Equals Falling For A Hot and Of Course Single Sheriff With Incredible Blue Eyes, Love Means Having Abnormally Coiffed Hair for the 1890s, etc.

I ate a Toaster Streudel for the first time in YEARS.

(On a completely different topic, can someone explain to me why it is that I cannot buy a pastry-type product lately without it being a Cinnabon offshoot? All I wanted was brown sugar cinnamon toaster streudel–they used to have them, I promise–and all I could find was “Cinnabon Cinnamon Roll” ones.  Shocking how they tasted EXACTLY the same. I don’t want to know if Mom paid more for them. That would just send me into a rant of sizable capitalist proportions.)

I don’t think I could have asked for anything better today.

It’s exactly what I needed.

There’s a time and a season for everything, yes?

Well, this is my season for schmaltz and streudel.

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