Today's not the greatest day because I spent last weekend
driving up the 1 and slurping ramen (with Geo!) and haggling in Hayes Valley (with the bar boss!) and savoring champagne at the Ferry Building (with my mum!) and buying Ella Moss at Barneys and slamming Black Russians at Zeitgeist and downing dosa at Dosa and sipping hot toddies at Tosca and inhaling espresso at Caffe Trieste and a two hour wait, New York-style, in the cold, for biscuits at Brenda's (with Katie and Paul!) and chugging beet juice at Cafe Gratitude and upping my mercury levels at Chaya and lapping amaretto at R Bar and luxuriating in TEA! at Samovar Tea Lounge
and then, to top it all off, after a few hours of sleep, after several hours of driving, after even more hours of walking, and a few of running (with Esp!) I'm
sitting in front of a bonfire with vodka and food and boy, and not everyone can be a special snowflake, and not every day can be effortlessly perfect, but today is actually kind of bad.
It's the kind of day I wake up way too early, and then way too late. Every phone call is a problem that may or may not be my fault, but is now my responsibility. Every email is counterproductive. And my day isn't anywhere close to being over, and my weekend plans are falling apart, and I'll
just take a deep breath, like you do when you're driving through that bit of the 101 with the eucalyptus trees, and thinking about lesbian whisperers and "You're a bit of a sweetheart, aren't you?" and 4am dance parties with Bjork, that crazy bitch, and someone else being there when I wake up.
Maybe that's what today is missing.