I always say I like the routine of the workweek. I enjoy getting up early with a sense of purpose, knowing I can’t laze around too long because I have to get dressed and go to the office soon. I wouldn’t want to work at home in sweatpants, since I like having a reason to dress nicely and, most importantly, have a collection of shooze in various colors and styles. Not to mention boots! If I worked at home, I’d never wear adorable corduroy skirts with cute sweaters and boots. The horror.
Plus the workweek makes the weekends so much sweeter. You schedule fun plans (or no plans!) and look forward to seeing friends, going to cool events, watching movies, or just blissing out in peace when Saturday morning rolls around.
That said, for over a week last week I hibernated with my daughter up in NorCal and really really enjoyed it. I drove her car to the store twice, and we took short walks around the neighborhood. But other than that, and letting her doggie outside in the back, I stayed in, wore sweats, and pretty much did nothing but read books, blog, color, eat various carbs, snack on candy, etc. I also kept checking the online news too frequently, blech!
Point is, I quickly forgot how much I allegedly love the routine of getting out of the house and going to work in a cute outfit, and I immediately adapted to shlumping around like a retired brown bear. Didn’t realize how adaptable I am. What a nice trait to discover so late in life. (Pats self on back.) (Ow.)
But today I’m back to normal.