Working in panties (and maybe a bra !)

when I sit at my computer, half dressed, half not, (if undergarments are considered dress attire, then I am actually fully dressed I suppose, my usual funk of adventure as I jump on the computer right after my early sunrise run and yoga, and then, of course, right after the tranquillizing shower I take) with a pen sticking straight out from between my teeth I am most likely to be impressed by life (in particular, my life). My office space is way up top in the loft of the townhouse I am currently situated in (not the best geographically placed town-home, but it will do for now) and it is thirty - nine steps up and thirty - nine steps down, and the reason once up there, well, I sit in undergarments, to get fully dressed would entail at least maneuvering half of those same steps, in a downward sort of spiral. I usually eat my Greek yogurt and clementines in this daily manner, as I put together daily thoughts, to do lists, to not do lists, to I don't want to do lists (this is usually the bigger of the lists for me), and then the list that circumstances of life just force me to do (you might say that that list is on the bigger scale as well). The Greek yogurt and clementines are part of the whole creative process for me (at night, the Greek yogurt is substituted for avocados and white wine) Words feel some how more profound when you type them out wearing only undergarments (not sure if this works for all writers, but definitely for me it does) Blank screen, blank paper, pen in teeth, and yet, there is soon to be a small confrontation with an editor whom expects an email from me today with an attached file of writing to go along with it. There will be no happiness when I tell her I am still in undergarments, eating Greek yogurt, and staring up and out my skylights. Editors are a funny brood, miss a deadline, and they turn into lunatic people whom have to make you start wondering why you ever choose them in the first place...oh, wait a minute, they choose me, and at the time, I needed them. I needed an editor whom would work with the pile of essays I had accumulated on my hard drive. Yes, now I clearly remember why I climbed the thirty - nine stairs, and sit here in my underwear, it is to make some progression on that list I have now sidelined for an entire week....it will probably be noon before I am dressed today. Thank god I am not skyping!