That before I was sad last night, I was happy. Very happy, in fact. The sadness hit me once I was alone and thinking about myself and my life. The sadness hit me when I was sitting in a Sbarro downtown at 3:00 in the morning doing nothing in particular.
I don’t know how I feel about those intense nights that combine everything that’s best about being with other people with everything that’s worst about being a lonely American. I guess I just have to fix the lonely American think.
But it was intense. That’s for sure.