I'm not one to wear sweatpants in public.
It's not like I shame others for wearing them,
Or that I don't enjoy the comfort of that fuzzy inside part,
It's just there's something ****** enough inside of me that prevents me from exposing this level of comfort outside the safety of my home.

So if you ever see me in sweatpants,
Assume that all hell broke loose and that something went terribly wrong.

If I look mad:
Run.
Don't even consider stopping.
run
I bite.

If I look like I haven't slept,
Well you're probably right,
I probably haven't.

And if I appear to be sad and/or (probably) crying,
Don't talk. Just be there and listen to me complain.
And if you're having a 'sweatpants day,'
I'll be there for you as well.