Over on Facebook, one of my friends became a fan of “Staying in your PJs all day”. I don’t know if I’ve done that very often, outside of being ill.

As a frequent telecommuter, one of my goals is to get up and showered and ready to go in the morning. Morning swimming helps with that goal! I don’t do anything fancy with my hair, and often wear sweatpants and a t-shirt, but I’m clean and dressed. Not being so before I get on conference calls feels pretty slimy, even if no one can actually see.

I actually have a very personal experience in that area that strengthens my resolve.

As many of you know, the morning I lost Bryan, he had gone into the office and I was working at home. I did not get up and shower that morning; I was working in the den in my pajamas. Nice PJs – flowered drawstring pants and a henley t-shirt – but PJs nonetheless.

When the knock on the door came at about 10:15am, I tossed a sweat jacket on over my PJs to cover up my lack of, err, proper undergarments and answered the door. Of course, I had no idea who was there – it could have been UPS, or a neighbor. But it wasn’t.

The whole time the officers were talking to me, telling me about Bryan, I was dreadfully, inappropriately self-conscious of the fact that I was sitting there in pajamas, without a bra. Craziness! It was the assistant coroner, for goodness sake – he works with the dead – he doesn’t care whether we survivors are wearing pajamas, jeans or business suits.

As soon as he stepped out to get death certificate paperwork I ran upstairs and changed to jeans and a sweater and brushed my hair. I think perhaps my brain was clinging to odd little details like pajamas, like flotsam in a flood.

Last night’s visit from the police, of course, reminded me of this earlier, more tragic one.

So now, every morning, I make it a point to be up and dressed before starting work. On weekends, I get ready for the day before fixing breakfast. I’m sure it won’t prevent another visitation from bearers of bad news someday, but at least I’ll have to find a different, distracting focus if it should ever happen again.