PJs at noon aren’t normal and other good advice

I think the kids and I are officially on Island time – or just total lazy asshole time. They are probably different but Island time sounds quaint and not like you are just a total sad sack eating cereal off the ledge your boobs create when you hunch down to watch Netflix in your PJs at 1:00 in the afternoon while your kids run around on their way to becoming totally feral.

 

Our days used to be all about action and getting things done. Alarm at 5 a.m./get up/get showered and dressed/get the kids up and ready/get to work and school/get shit done at said job and school/get in the car to get the kids/get groceries/get dinner/get the dogs out for a walk/get to various sport practices/get the kids in the shower/get some cleaning done/make lunches/get my ass to bed.

 

And repeat. And repeat. And repeat. And repeat. Bleecchh.

 

The first few days here, we were still pretty geared up and wired for action. We were up by 7, ready by 8 and looking for adventure and shit to do by 9. 

 

But then a funny thing happened. Aside from going to the beach daily , hitting some indoor pools here and there and doing all the local touristy type stuff, we started to notice there is kind of fuck all to do here really. And once you go to the ocean like 17 days in row, you are kind of just like, “Meeeh – I kind of feel like I have the jist of the daily action down here. I’m good. What else is there to do?”

 

So, knowing we have limited activities to fill the summer, our days have gotten a lot more chill. Like I am still in my PJs at 12:30 – p.m. (not a.m.) kind of chill. 

 

A few days ago – on garbage and recycling day - I saw the garbage truck pull away from our curb so I headed out like a responsible neighbor to bring the cans in. I should add I did this in my PJs with crazy ass bed hair. And it was early afternoon. And my PJs are not what you would call pretty. I have been known to paint in them, clean with bleach in them, shrink them in the dryer, catch them on shit and rip them – and still keep them in my nightly rotation. So picture that vision stomping up the driveway to get her garbage cans. 

 

My neighbor got to see it. And I actually waved and started to go towards her like we could strike up a conversation. Forgetting that I looked – for all intents and purposes – like an escaped mental patient. It was a pretty awkward and short conversation during which she worked really hard to not let her eyes drop below my neck.

 

The conversation did however make me rethink some of my recent life choices, and ponder on whether living basically a feral lifestyle with no awareness of time was my best option. Knowing this – I have set some new goals for myself for the week.  

1. Netflix until midnight = bad.
2. Not showering because there is a pretty good chance you did this morning, but your memory is a bit hazy as the days are blending into an endless string of Netflix and dog walking = bad.
3. PJs past 9am = bad.
4. Not shaving your legs for like 10 days in a row (and still going to the beach) = bad.
5. Eating anything while resting the plate or bowl on your boobs = bad.
6. Feeding the kids breakfast cereal for all meals = bad.
7. Smelling anything before deciding if it is okay to wear = bad.
8. Leaving your front door – unless shit is seriously on fire or someone is losing blood – in your PJs = bad. 

Stay tuned, hoping to turn back into a semi-functional human by the end of July. Headed out to by some razors and a fucking newspaper. Fingers crossed!