I attempted to stay up late last night to watch the Mars landing. It was too ambitious of me. (Words you will rarely ever hear come out of my mouth about anyone or anything.) I was hauling my ass to bed by 12:45am.
Naturally, waking up this morning was a bit of a "betch."
My body did not want to get out of bed. I kept moving my alarm back 30 minutes. I did this three times. So instead of getting out of bed at 6:30am, I got out at 8am.
"Wow. You're really push the time of an acceptable start to your day in the office," The Husband said to me as I was gathering my stuff to walk out the door to work.
"Um," I said, "this is New York. I will get to work at 9:15am, and probably be one of the first people in the office. Most people don't roll in until close to 10am."
This baffles him, having worked in finance for 13 years now. I blamed my slow start on my ambitious attempts. And as I corralled my laptop, purse, keys and makeup, I pointed out to him that I was wearing a pajama top with my outfit today.
"You didn't wear that to bed, did you?" he asked. Having gone to bed well after him, he has no idea what I was wearing.
"Nope," I said. "But in the spirit of how sleepy I am today, I think it is appropriate."
"It doesn't even look like a pajama top," he eyed suspiciously.
True. It probably doesn't, tucked under my blue blazer. But it is indeed. I procured it from the "lounge" section at Anthropologie this weekend. I fell in love with the colors. Plus, with how hot it is out today, it's light enough to wear under the blazer and not feel like another layer that is going to stick to my body the moment I walk outside.