friday = nostalgia

i am a newly minted professional, staring into the face of a quasi-permanent 9 to 5 grind for the first time. thus weekends should have new and profound meaning for me. and they do have significance, particularly as i imagine myself sleeping at this hour on tomorrow's morn.

but yet i approach the weekend's debauchery more reluctantly now than during my years of "academia". in point of fact i am now worried by the sickeningly drunken condition to which i am likely to render myself this night. this is a particular risk on an evening such as this, boasting as it does enumerable opportunities for revelry.

is this because the joys of drunkenness have become lost on me? surely you jest. is it that my tolerance for drink has been compromised by reduction? this holds water, but alas is not where the blame lies.

nay, these are not the reasons i am weary of tonight's busy drinking schedule. in truth, the reasons are two fold:

first, the afternoons. spending 5 afternoons a week at a desk, the beauty of a sunny day feels a stranger. spend them as i may (walking, dining, sleeping), weekend afternoons are as valuable to me as are weekend nights.

second, depressingly i am old[er]. i am simply not able to consume the same volumes, no longer able to function on 3 hours of drunken slumber, and certainly less able to stave off the debilitating effects of hangover. this revelation troubles me greatly, as i am yet a young man. i find myself wistful for the blissful constant tightness of age 19.