tits andronicus

YOU DO IT ON ONE OF THESE! OBVIOUSLY!!!

I suppose it’s been culturally decided that it’s an unnecessary step in the bedtime process. We’re busy bastards, aren’t we? Who makes their bed every morning, I mean, really?

Perhaps, also, our clothing is no longer of the material and methodology where you have to spend extra time/attention/tools on them. Pyjama cases may have had some benefit - extending the life of the pyjamas, or something. Perhaps it was more common in those days for mice to climb into your silk pyjamas, or they kept them from being attacked by dogs, or something. It’s possible that there are unspoken benefits to keeping your pyjamas in a stuffed toy, which previous generations knew instinctively and we have forgotten. Some people are like that, they maintain rituals and practices that don’t get written down, and so become arcana. My father-in-law owns special clothing maintenance tools such as shoe trees (which you place in your shoes every night at night) and trouser presses (in which you leave your worn-but-not-dirty trousers overnight so they are crisp in the morning). He irons his pocket handkerchiefs - why? so that they fold into a precise pocket shape, with the same fold pattern as plastic-wrapped disposable tissues: the optimised shape for pockets. You are not going to read in the literature about there being a reason for ironing pocket handkerchiefs. It is a habit that is not captured by history. You have to speak to a practitioner to even consider that there is a specific value in pocket handkerchief folding. Maybe we operate at a remove from the people who could have told us why they bothered with the idea and then stopped.

You can buy a selection of pyjama cases online, but with no explanation of why you’d want to, it’s hard to see how this helps. The only real thing i can see is that it’s cute and tidies the pyjamas up, but we’ve all decided that untidy pyjamas are a problem that doesn’t need solving.

£34.50 for THIS. how do i lose all shame and become this kind of scam artist lol. buy some actual fucking feminist theory

i had a flick through and couldn’t find anything straightforwardly transphobic (although I can’t swear it’s not in there as I was NOT going to read the whole thing which might have taken like twenty minutes at most) so to me it seemed like they were trying to skirt the edges of plausible deniability. but. l o l.

andy has a sleep schedule beyond mortal comprehension. lies down for the first sleep at sunset, sleeps for like 3 hours, gets up and starts wandering around. if it's a good (define "good") night she'll go out and stargaze. if it's a bad night she'll compulsively check her gear and care for her axe. if it's really bad she'll run

joe and nicky never adopted monophasiac sleep specifically because the those hours in the middle of the night have been their Special Alone time ever since they met up with andromake, neriko, and lykton. essential when they're on a mission and don't have time to themselves during the day. they have strange, winding, half asleep conversations in multiple languages. if there's anything that's been troubling them, that's often when they talk about it. i think they first realized they were having the same dreams during one of these conversations

booker stays up until 4 am reading encyclopedia Britannica articles and getting increasingly drunk. nile teaches him to use google earth and he becomes mildly obsessed. he likes zooming out to look at the whole planet and then zooming in on france

nile goes to bed on time with military precision and sleeps for eight hours the whole night through. the others find this mildly disconcerting. joe and nicky debate whether she's unwell somehow (''we don't get sick, my heart" "it's not like there's a rulebook, nicoló"). the rare occasion comes when nile gets up in the middle of the night. she encounters, in quick succession:

joe and nicky, having a bizarre conversation full of non-sequiturs, pidgin, and intricate, centuries-old in jokes. their eyes are still closed, and they're still spooning. it honest-to-god looks like they're still asleep

booker, massive bags under his eyes, pouring another glass of gin, britannica article for the Napoleonic wars open full brightness on his laptop

andy, sitting at the kitchen table in the dark, sharpening her axe with a whetstone. scraaape, scraaape, scraaape