I swore I would never go out of the house in pajamas, but I did. The shame.
I’ve grown so weary of seeing people at restaurants and stores wearing their pajama bottoms. I get that they’re comfy, but it’s just so tacky. There has never been much danger that I would follow suit because I didn’t own any pajamas.
Then I ordered a pair of “lounging pants” for my recuperation. “Lounging pants” is just another way of saying “pajamas.” We all know it. There’s no point in denying it. It’s just marketing.
Well, they’re cute – a pink/green/claret plaid – and very comfy. I’ve used them to lounge in and sleep in and I had them on yesterday morning when Greg roused up from the couch in the other room and said a few minutes later, “Patsy, there’s something wrong with both my eyes. I can’t see – everything is like I’m looking through a film.” Needless to say, this got me out of bed very quickly. We couldn’t see anything wrong, but I called the eye doctor’s office that was open for another 25 minutes and they said they would see him.
“I can’t drive,” he said.
“I will,” I said.
“I can,” I said with tremendous conviction. It’s only a few blocks and I knew I would be able to manage it fine. Which I did. In my pajamas. Yes, the pajamas/lounging pants, pink plaid and all.
There was no time to change clothes or call someone to come and take us. We just went. I wouldn’t want to drive more than a few blocks because the way I have to sit in the seat is uncomfortable, but it was fine and I felt my reflexes were fine. I hadn’t had any pain pills in about 22 hours.
Greg’s eye problem was diagnosed as an infection, so nothing serious – part of a sinus infection he has. The doctor gave him a prescription for some drops. We took it to Dillon’s to get it filled because it was on the way home and the optometrist suggested them. I won’t ever make that mistake again. Good grief.
First they tell us it will take two hours to fill it. We give them about four hours and come back. They can’t find anything, including the actual prescription. After some fumbling around they tell us they don’t have this medicine and offer to call around and look for it. They had had four freaking hours to call around and hadn’t bothered. Now that we’re sitting in the drive through lane, with three cars behind us, they want to call around. There’s some customer service. Greg, smartly, just took the prescription back and took it to Walmart where they actually keep medication on hand with which to fill prescriptions – a concept other pharmacies might want to consider.
By the way, this would be a fine example of why I shop at Walmart, which always seems to mystify people. They have the products you want/need on the shelves. That’s a big one. And when it comes to prescriptions they charge me $4 for one that another pharmacy charges $53 for. I simply can’t afford to give my local businesses an extra $49 a month for the same product. Sorry. If you can justify it and afford it, that’s fabulous. I can’t.
I had actually been considering moving my prescriptions to Dillon’s since I shop there anyway, but yesterday’s experience told me that would be a foolish, foolish, foolish move. I thought Walmart was slow when they wanted thirty minutes to fill a prescription. Little did I know they were four times faster than Dillon’s. Not to mention they can actually fill the prescription.
I do love Dillon’s for grocery shopping, especially when I have coupons. They give double coupons and that keeps me coming back. Have I ever mentioned my love of coupons? They’re also convenient to run to when I need just a few things.
Well, back to the pajamas and my secret shame that is no longer secret. I’ll just say that once you’ve crossed the line there’s no going back. I wore them to lunch. I wore them to dinner. I slept in them. I’m still in them. It’s disgraceful.
I could plead that changing clothes is a struggle for me because of the bending. I could point out that it’s not like I’m getting anything very dirty. I could say I’m allowed because I’m still recuperating. But, of course, these are all just ugly excuses that lead to people like me running around in public in clothes never designed to be seen outside the confines of one’s home.
Obviously, I need to order a couple more pair. At least a couple more. Because once the line has been crossed there’s no going back. I’ve gone over to the dark side. Or the pink plaid side.
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