Friday. Random.

It snowed yesterday. And by "snowed" I mean the skies opened up and with a floofy thump, over a foot of snow was dumped all over everything.

PRETTY!

But oh my, there was a lot of it.

Now, for those of you who aren't aware, here are two facts about my life:

1) I work from home.

2) I drive a VW Rabbit. A low to the ground, buried in snow, barely even visible at that point Rabbit.

Fact #1 is important because I normally get dressed for work. I dress casually, but I get dressed. Yesterday, though, I knew that I would have to go out and shovel the Rabbit out, since the snow was covering the tires. I put on my favorite black sweatpants because a) they're comfortable and b) they don't LOOK like the sweatpants of old (which is to say they're not cinched about the ankle. They're straight legged sweaties! Faaaaahbulous!) and they'd be warm during the shovelling. Then I put on a long sleeved black t-shirt and a black and grey striped sweater. I looked comfy and presentable. Work mindset engaged. I went to work.

I watched it snow.

I kept thinking about having to dig out the Rabbit and making scowly faces. At one point, I may have actually had the thought: "This is why I need a manpanion. Or an LL Bean Boyfriend." But then I thought, "I am WOMAN. WATCH ME SHOVEL."

Yeaaaaaaah. About that.

It was ... not effective. Not even a little. No matter how much snow I cleared away from the car, I had no traction. The tires spun. The car stayed put.

In the meantime, I may have fallen into a snowbank and also had a mild asthma attack (cold + my lungs = lack of air. Not enjoyable).

There I was. Wet, cold, and wheezing. I gave up and trudged up the stairs, breath whistling in and out like a tea kettle.

I went into the house and put coffee on and used my inhaler, dripping snow onto the kitchen floor. Once those things were attended to, I took stock of my current state as I toed off my boots. My sweater and shirt weren't wet. My sweaties, however, were SOAKED and cold. I was pretty cold overall. So...

... I grabbed my polar fleece jammie pants.

This would not be remarkable, except for what these pants look like. They're navy blue. They have light blue stars and little white moons on them and they're so cozy and warm. Wearing them is like living inside all of your happiest thoughts.

I put them on. Then I put on my purple slippers, the ones that look like Chuck Taylors.

And THEN I looked at myself.

Grey and black striped sweater? Check. Navy blue pants with stars printed all over them? Check. Bright purple slippers? Check.

Oh well, I thought. I mean, I work from HOME! Who's gonna see me? No one! I don't need to match, no one will care, lalalalalala --

BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

The doorbell rang.

Let me say this: The UPS guy is here a lot. And generally, when he comes here, he talks to the cat a little bit and is mildly flirty.

Yesterday, I opened the door and he gave me a look that said "Dear Jesus, when did they release you from the asylum?" and then he said, out loud, as though he couldn't help himself: "Wow. You ... usually match."

"Yeah. Um. It's my birthday?" I heard myself saying, as though it being my BIRTHDAY was a rational reason for looking like a complete moron.

He handed me my package silently. Oh well, I thought. At least I'm comfortable.

Crazy.

But comfortable.