After two days of being sick (I never really got over being sick at Xmas) and my wife being sick too, I've begun to understand why a certain cadre of people who work at home stick to the ritual of getting up and getting dressed.
It's rainy and cold out and we two, stuck inside, feel stale and warmed over. Coming in and out of sleep I've had the dream that somehow, my hair is washed, cut and styled just the way I like it but without any work on my part. Likewise my eyebrows have been shaped to perfection, a peerless line etched timelessly across my forehead.
Winter sick days (or summer ones for that matter) call out for the clean, well-tended trimness of health.
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