Since we’ve purchased our house two months ago, we’ve been able to see the comings and goings of our new neighbors from our kitchen window (oh, the things you can learn!), but–with the exception of one man next door to us–no one has said hello to us! NO ONE (with the exception of the one man next door to us)!

For some reason this has really irked me. I mean, I’m not expecting plates of cookies (but, hello, that would be awesome!), but just a nice hello, welcome to the neighborhood.

After Flood 1 when we had had a string of service vehicle in our driveway for about 5 weeks straight, I figured our neighbors are superstitious and don’t want our karma to rub off on them. (Though, through my kitchen window sightings, it appears the neighbors across the street also had water in their basement; that or they were coincidentally redoing their flooring at the same time that we had flooding in our basement.)

But on Wednesday night I had a revelation. It’s not them, it’s me.

When we moved in I need old clothes to paint in. So I grabbed an old pair of pajamas pants–blue with white sailboats and a pink drawstring–that were ripping and ready to be tossed. I put those same “painting” pants on again on Wednesday night to do a second coat on the basement walls and then after that I got sidetracked with watering the flowers outside and pulling up some weeds then planting some seeds around the mailbox.

It took me two whole days to put this together: they think I’m the crazy pajama lady. Every time they’ve seen me outside I’ve been dressed in what-appears-to-be PAJAMAS.

Oi. I better step up my fashion game if I have any chance at being invited to a neighborhood party.