by the time friday night rolls around i am pretty beat. ive been awkwardly touched by more tourists than should be allowed while simply trying to walk to work, have touched, felt and seen more weird shit than you can ever imagine and on more than one occasion, woken up still drunk. nyc is fun.
once you accept that everything you love will eventually kill you, like the sun and trans fats, you start to feel a little more relaxed about a few haphazard friday night adventures. you realize that by living in nyc you are never not going to be tired so you better just put some pants on, grab a glass of wine and hit the open city!
does it really matter that i have 3 weeks worth of laundry to do, have limited edible food in my refrigerator, and haven’t washed my hair in a year? no, those things have a way of being boring and working themselves out. and i live with 4 girls...we make it work. and i dont like washing my hair anyway.
so here we go. after a long day at work im going to hit the town on this glorious friday night.