Homebody

It's been 36 hours and I'm still in my bathrobe.
My husband looked a little concerned when he returned home for his lunch break.
The beauty of being a freelancer is that I don't have to leave my home, except for special occasions. It's especially helpful during ice storms. I get paid to write from the comfort of my bed.
I waved good-bye to my husband as he left our toasty home and skated down the steps to his car. I cheered him on as he chipped blocks of ice from my car...I think he was encouraging me to leave the house and do...something.
Jeff's so used to seeing me decked out in nice clothes and a coat of make-up. But now--dare I say it?--He looks better than me! I could get used to this life...