So this past weekend I had little going on – a birthday party for my boyfriend’s young cousin and the weekly cleaning of the house. Sounds easy enough, right? I am a person that actually enjoys cleaning (aside from scrubbing the tub, I HATE doing that, so never look at my shower if you are ever visiting) so to skip it on my lazy three day weekend is pretty scandalous for me. But I have an excuse. And a damn good one at that. It all started with putting on my awesome Pajama Jeans on Saturday morning. The rest of the weekend was down hill.
Now, if you don’t know what Pajama Jeans are you have clearly been living under a rock for the past two years. Now, I’m not saying everyone owns them – I’m actually the only person I know that owns them – but they were a hit on the internet.
Meaning, people couldn’t wait to make fun of them. Pajama jeans are up there with Snuggies, except people actually started buying Snuggies (and if you don’t know what a Snuggie is, then, I just, I don’t know what to do with you). I saw another blog making fun of the PJJs a few years back and jokingly put a link up on my away message saying something to the effect of “I.Want.Now”. Lo and behold, about two months later (because they were BACKORDERED so I guess someone is actually buying them) a package came for me from my awesome boyfriend who thought I actually wanted them. At first, I didn’t know what to do – I was shocked, I was awed, I wasn’t sure if I was actually cool enough to pull these sad things off. Then I put them on. They have been ruining my motivation ever since.
First of all – they are comfortable. I mean, they ARE sweatpants. A little thick – so they are definitely a winter only item, but damn, if they don’t make my ass look good, I don’t know what does. They look like real jeans!! I actually wear them out of the house. I haven’t gone so far as to wear them with heels on a night out on the town, but we are rapidly approaching the day that I can justify that to myself. Like, it might happen tonight after my Mary Kay party (details on that in another post).
Let’s review the timeline. Saturday morning, I put them on when I wake up because the apartment is chilly. Then we have to run out to grab birthday gifts and they stayed on. Then we have to actually go to the birthday party and I ask the BF if I he would think less of me if I actually wore them to the party. He said “nah, it just a little kid birthday party”. To which I respond “Pajama Jeans are slippery slope” but that is all the convincing I need. Three hours later we are home, relaxing, and canceling our evening plans to go out with friends. Sunday morning rolls around, and I’m still in the PJJs. I stay on the couch, and I do not clean. Sunday night, we don’t even make it into the bedroom – we sleep on the couch. All of Monday goes by me on the couch, in my PJJs, not getting any cleaning done, not showering, not even making our own food anymore (delivery, what, what?). Apparently the de-motivation of the PJJs is as communicable as the common cold because the BF had no problem staying on the couch with me for this epic three day weekend.
I was almost, almost, thankful for work on Tuesday. It finally got my ass out of those amazing PJJs and into the shower and real clothes. But damn, I wish I was wearing them right now.
If you want to enjoy these with me, get em here (and yes, I wear my gray Pajama Jean Tee-Shirt too!):