I’ve probably mentioned before, I’m a morning person. I seem to experience my most perfect moments of divine clarity before the sun rises. I wake up between 4 and 5 every day. 
Considering that my job is a 10 minute walk from my apartment – it’s almost like having a whole day before I dip into work land for a few chunks of hours.
Morning is when I compose my most favorite bits of writing, and when I welcome another day strolling through Central Park with the puppies. I adore being fresh out of a dream state, in my own world for awhile before I have to put on my grown up clothes and strut around midtown with the rest of the corporate crazies.
And trust me, it’s crazy.
That said, work has always been some odd safety zone for me. My shrink used to say that there was something about the structure of it that I found comfort in. I wouldn’t necessarily take it that far… but I do think it’s a good idea to keep myself locked away for some time during the middle of the day. Nights are another story. Like last night, for example.
There aren’t many places in the world where on a Monday night over vodka drinks a pair of besties can concur, “Totally. Let’s go downstairs and have a whiskey while a few gay cowboys dance on the bar.”
And that, blog family, is just one more reason why I know that I am exactly where I need to be in this space and time.