I Want My PJ's

Last night, I was counting a win on avoiding domestic shit and spending the entire evening in front of my computer, until I went to take my shower. That was when I realized I didn't have any clean pajamas. By clean, I mean not carrying the scent of the previous night's pre-menopausal sweat fest.

The only option left to me was a nightie. Nighties that were purchased way back when Boyfriend was still spending weeknights at my place. Spaghetti strapped nighties, carefully selected to conceal my mid-section flubber, but highlight the chest-section flubber otherwise known as boobs.

The problem with those nighties? I roll around in my sleep, which means all night long one tit or the other will be flopping out of the effing thing. For me that's kind of like when one shoe comes untied and then you retie it. But now, one shoe is tighter than the other so you have to retie the other one too.

I didn't sleep well last night what with all the adjusting and re-adjusting. 

I did some laundry tonight.

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