At one point or another in our lives, we've had that 9 to 5 day job that requires some sort of work clothing - be it the head to toe brown uniform of UPS (I've always wondered, do they have brown underwear too?) or the business attire complete with the ugly closed toe pumps that squish your toes or the hideously boring tie that feels like it's going to choke the life out of you any second.
So you crawl home on the freeway during rush hour traffic, sweating, itching, squirming in your uncomfortable and restrictive clothing that reeks of the spent adrenaline and disappointment of the day's struggle. You pull into the driveway, accidentally drop your coffee mug and have to chase it with the dregs now dribbling down the driveway, grab your briefcase/tote/purse and bolt into the house. The door slams and you start ripping off your restrictive, stale, chafing work clothes - practically running out of your shoes and draping a bra or a tie over the back of a chair as you head for the bedroom. You throw on your pajamas, so soft and comfy, a cotton cocoon of pleasure, and step into your plushy slippers and scuff out into the kitchen to grab a beer or a pudding cup and throw yourself onto the couch with a collapsing groan of pleasure.
Pajamas, that universal uniform of "I'm not doing anything but disengaging and slothing about now".
And just like that act of coming home from the daily grind and putting on your pajamas, sometimes, when things get unbearable, your brain puts on its pajamas. My brain has a ridiculous pair of Hello Kitty pajamas and matching pink plush slippers on right now. It got tired of dealing with too much pain, disappointment and anxiety and one day just quietly pulled the PJs out of the drawer, relishing the feel of the soft flannel and the way its feet just sank into the foam soles of the slippers, and wandered into the kitchen to mix a martini. And it has been on the couch watching life go by for quite a few months.
At one point, it actually dozed off and when it awoke with a startled "Wha...?" it realized that it stunk, there was an olive stuck on its cheek and it really needed a shower. You can't go back to work in stinky Hello Kitty pajamas and fuzzy pink slippers with scary hair and an olive stuck on your face and expect them to take you seriously.
It's time to go back to work....