Pajama Wednesdays

A few weeks ago I was playing Scrabble with one of my classes and one student played the word ‘jamas.’ I challenged it, but he said he found it in the dictionary on his phone, and promptly showed me the entry. It is, apparently, somewhere, an accepted short from of ‘pajamas.’

In my head, I think about Wednesdays as “Blogging Day” but if recent weeks are a trend, perhaps I should call them “Pajama Day.” As I write this, it is Wednesday afternoon. I am wearing my pajamas. To clarify, I got up, showered, and then put on what other people might call ‘lounge wear’ but given my relatively limited supply of clothing that isn’t work uniforms, I also sleep in it. Ah, to heck with it, it’s comfy and I didn’t actually leave the apartment today. Also, my jeans are still wet from laundry day last night. But, I also spent last Wednesday in pjs. Just, they weren’t my pajamas, and I wasn’t in my apartment.

Have you ever wished you could live in a mental institution? No? Just me? Okay, forget I said that. Really, thought, I sometimes wistfully think of how nice it would be to be committed. There would be lots of free time, security and safety without work or responsibility, lots of time for self reflection and therapy, and lots of lounging about in comfy clothes. Of course, I also occasionally think it would be nice to be in minimum-security prison. I’d get a lot of reading done. I know, however, that my conceptualizations of both prison and mental institutions come from television, where everything is nicer than reality. If I was in prison, I’d have no freedom (plus, I’d probably have committed a crime), and if I was in a mental institution, I’d likely find that it isn’t all fun and games (plus, I’d probably have a serious mental illness).

No matter, last Wednesday was all the fun of a fictional mental institution, crossed with an all-girls college slumber party. In fact, about at the point where I was standing in front of a row of sinks and mirrors, fixing my hair, with a coterie of strangers and friends, I was strongly reminded of my not-so-distant college days. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s begin at the beginning.

So, where was I last Wednesday? At a 24-hour spa. How does this work? Well, you pay one fee to get in, and you can stay for up to 24 hours. Whilst in, you are provided with a lovely set of pink and white pajamas (think scrubs, but knee-length) and rubber shower shoes. You are free to avail yourself of the sauna, the steam room, the buffet, and the relaxing chairs. You can also, for an extra fee, indulge in various spa services, from massages to pedicures (to “ear cleaning,” which supposedly would take 25 minutes and none of us were quite daring enough to try). I went with a couple of my friends and some friends of friends.  We got there at around noon and didn’t leave until about 8pm. It was great.

We indulged in the sauna and the steam room, then had some lunch at the buffet, then retired to a private room for some lounging about. I played a few hands of mahjong with my compatriots (I even won a round!) at the coolest mahjong table ever (It shuffles, stacks, and rolls the dice automatically. It also had cupholders.) We delighted in various spa services, snacked on fruit and tea, and generally were total laze-abouts. After dinner, we lounged about in the sauna again for a while, then showered and primped at the brightly lit row of sinks and mirrors. I blow-dried my hair (I never do this). Oh, funny note. I used some of the available facial moisturizer, which has skin whitener in it (as I swear they all are when I try to buy some in the store). Well, we’ll see if it works, yeah?

Anyway, that is the story of my day in pjs. It was fun and comfy and warm. Actually, I feel like the weather might be warming up again. I’d love it if it could just hit the mid-seventies and just stay there for a couple months. That would be nice.