Me:  This isn’t crippling depression.  I’m working from home.  
Postman:  What?  
Me:  You know, I answered the door in sweatpants with hair that isn’t exactly done at 4:30 pm.  I just didn’t want you to worry.  
Postman:  Oh.  
Me:  I’m a writer.  And I’d ask what you do, but the uniform’s a giveaway.  You work for the postal system.  At least I hope so or I guess I should be worried that I opened the door for a psycho killer or something!  
Postman:  Will you just sign here?  

My daytime fashion isn’t the only thing that’s deteriorated due to working from home…social skills, know that you’re missed.