Just a Tuesday

MIDNIGHT on a Tuesday and not a second thought. It began with a text message, received late after turning on the mobile only after 7pm. --Barbacoa at the Aussies at 5, bring whomever--. Or stay in and neglect to pack in favor of reading. Right. So head out for vino and start walking. Fruit with Rosé and Tinto de Verano gave way to kebab creations, later expertly cooked on the barbie by the Aussies while summers past and future be recounted on the terrace. Food and drink in the fading light with talk of parties and beaches and life unattached over Purple Rain and Queen's greatest. Follow up with cigarettes and more wine until the sky goes black and one observes the beginning of tomorrow. Yes we all have work, but words don't hover on labor's immediacy. Instead plans are solidified for the next barbie afternoon, and reluctant goodbyes watch us out the door and onto the street. Plazas active, terrazas full, and calles channeling the nocturnal set that sees this night no differently to a Friday. It's what happens when the sun sets after 11pm on the city of night. Your watch brings inappropriate guilt and for a moment thoughts of a life led responsibly creep up until you remember that it's June, and there are no excuses. The only word is Yes. So stop in your tracks and take a look around, and notice that everything you see affirms the daily, and nightly, seizure of life itself.

Madrid is the city, living is the job.
and it starts again in 5 hours. excellent.