Pajama confusion during pandemic


By Melissa Martin - Guest columnist



My cerebral cortex is getting mixed up on daytime pajamas vs nighttime pajamas. During the waking hours, my attire is yoga pants, sweatpants or scrub pants. Or slouchy pants. Before bedtime, I change into stretchy or cotton pajama pants.

However, as the sheltering simmers, my pajama pants are arguing over the day hours versus the night hours. “Quiet down!” I shout. “Or you’ll both be quarantined to the laundry basket.” I’m feeling frumpy enough as it is.

Mr. Rogers frowns as I grab the same sweater from the hook, just seconds before a telehealth work meeting. Pulling it tight, I try to hide my pajama shirt. “Oh, it’s a frumpy day on the internet with coworkers. Would you not ogle my pajamas?” Hmmm. Everyone is wearing a sweater, even the boss. Are we all in pajamas? And mismatched socks? Well, fashionable Fran looks fashionable, as usual.

No bunny slippers for me. My dog would go bunny ballistic. “Ah! My human mom has not one, but two rabbits attached to her feet. I must chase and attack the furry creatures.”

Advice. Make sure the computer camera is turned off before you stand up and walk away.

“Every Christmas Eve, the elves will come and give us a new pair of pajamas,” says Sabrina Carpenter. Ah-ha. Wear your happy holiday jammies during sheltering. Kids will love it.

Here’s a novel rad idea: work pajamas. Apparel that looks like work clothes, but feels like comfort. Yes, it’s work pajamas! No need to hide behind that gnarly sweater during Zoom chats. Comes with a matching hat to hide gnarly bed head hair.

“Some days you live in pajamas and your hair kind of has that Albert Einstein look.” ― A.D. Posey

Bedtime is later and later. Waking up is later and later. What happened to my routine? Early morning coffee with a visit from serenity. And I miss my mid-morning bakery bagel.

Want to talk about hygiene? Not taking a daily shower — how about you? Wearing a ballcap when I scurry in and out of the grocery store. On the verge of trimming my own hair.

Let me circle back. Why am I nattering to my pajamas? No, I haven’t named them yet. Have you? Just admit that you are experiencing pajamas confusion as well.

I’m in no hurry to put on real clothes. Don’t judge me. My mood is just fine. Long live scroungy pajamas and gnarly nightwear. No spandex for me. Call me “Pajama Momma.” No sizzling in a cotton unitard like Kylie Jenner. Chic loungewear is so overrated.

Pandemic pajamas R US.

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By Melissa Martin

Guest columnist

Melissa Martin, Ph.D, is an author, columnist, educator and therapist. She lives in southern Ohio. Viewpoints expressed in the article are the work of the author.

Melissa Martin, Ph.D, is an author, columnist, educator and therapist. She lives in southern Ohio. Viewpoints expressed in the article are the work of the author.