Confession #1: I am wearing sweatpants on a Friday night.
Confession #2: I have been wearing these particular sweatpants almost every day for the last few weeks.
Confession #3: They are not mine.
They belong, in fact, to my dear friend Alicia who ever so graciously loaned them to me when we were having a movie night- a revival of Hook, I might add. Although I cannot take credit for that, it was the brain child of my delightful office-mate, Ashley. I arrived totally ill-prepared for this movie night: in a pencil skirt and tights. Alicia was kind enough to loan me the best, most cumfy pair of sweatpants that have ever been on my body. "It is like I am not even wearing pants!" I have worn them almost every day since. They look at me from their resting place - usually my floor or the dirty laundry basket- and they taunt my conscience. "I am here, just here for you, the most comfortable pants you have ever worn. Sure, I may actually belong to someone else, but I am here with you now: here to comfort you, swaddle you in warmth and fuzziness, and to help you forget all your worries, fears, and insecurities. Certainly, I have done that for Alicia, and could be doing that for her now... but since I am here, it would be a waste of my glorious gifts not to wear me. It would be, in fact, an insult to the ontological nature of sweat pants."
Now, I KNOW that I should wash and return the sweatpants. They have, in fact, been washed several times. Once after I took them to the east coast on a recruiting trip, and once since in a spurt of good intentions to return them to their owner. Even as I write this I feel guilty. These are not my pants and I am not doing a great job of respecting Alicia or of honoring her generosity. BUT.... these. are. the. most. comfortable. pants. I. have. ever. worn. I can justify this pattern of behavior by saying that I know Alicia, and I know how deeply she cares for her friends and that she would want me to be comfortable- that she would want me to feel the loving embrace of an understanding friend after a long, angst-filled day.
Since my time with the object of my affections is limited I find perfectly legitimate reasons to keep them just one more day. I will give them back tomorrow, so I should be sure to wear them for one last time this evening. The next day they are not clean and I certainly can't give them back to Alicia dirty. I don't have time to do laundry until the weekend and we all know that the weekend is the perfect time to wear sweatpants. Luckily, I work with Alicia and so I will see her on Monday in order to return the perfectly clean sweatpants. Sunday night is youth group and not the best time to do laundry, so the pants can wait until Tuesday to go back. But who wants to laundry Monday night? And so, almost a month later, I am in the sweatpants. Luckily it is Friday night and I can enjoy another weekend of sweet, stolen time with the adultress pants.