Ops, I did it again. This is not a Britney reference. I actually did it again: I woke up this morning, had a cup of coffee (okay, three), brushed my teeth and wore a pair of beautiful, baggy, warm sweatpants. And then I went out, ready for class and the countless informal meetings throughout the day. Now, who knows me knows that since approximately 2010 sweatpants have been a sort of uniform for me. Before then, I only wore them when I did sports (the last recorded episode of me doing sports dates back to 2007) or when I was feeling depressed. Then, at some point, I started wearing them every day. Maybe because I was chronically depressed or perhaps because I just loved how they made me feel on an inner, visceral level. I know that if you go out wearing sweatpants, people automatically assume that you have given up on life; you get followed around in shops because they think you’re a thief; people ask you if you work at Sports Direct… that sort of stuff. M