Here I am in fuzzy pajamas. My apartment is clean (unusual). My car is dead (inconvenient). Monday is coming quickly (100% undesired).
I stand by fuzzy pajamas.
Edit: I lay down, utterly horizontal and barely supporting my own head, in fuzzy pajamas.
While the nation wages battle between the NeverTrumpers and the Deplorables, I'm with Fuzzy Pajamas. Fuzzy Pajamas 2016.
A weekend that began with flash flooding, highway stranding, friend's house crashing, gin drinking, Netflix watching, breakfast making, battery jumping, jumping failing, and Oktoberfest crashing ended in Church going, lox eating, grocery shopping, meal prepping, laundry folding, and yes, fuzzy pajama wearing.
I miss my car. She (Elenore Moonshadow Barnacle, 2000 Toyota Camry LE) lies comatose behind the Thomas More College Library, where she flat-towed by a helpful stranger. I haven't been driving officially for a full year yet. Something like this was bound to happen sooner or later. I've grown accustomed to my car.
That said, I'm not dying without her. Just when things were starting to feel too given, or rather, just when I was taking my current situation for granted and lamenting all I did not have, boop. There goes car. Here come friends. The Year of Mercy is ending, but the mercy flows on, and in the end, we can count on God, on friends, and on fuzzy pajamas.
Rain stopped, though. That was nice. Good night.
