Defined

Friday brings the happiest part of my existence in the world of publishing: Summer Hours. Monday-Thursday, I toil at my desk until 5:30. But Friday; sweet, delicious, wonderful Friday, I get to leave at 12:30. An additional four hours to do with what I please. A gift, hard earned by a week of begging my friends to kill me via the internet.

Since it's been shitty for the last few Fridays, I haven't done much with the first few early quitting Fridays I've had. But today, the sun shines passionately on Boston. The leaves are green, the sidewalks aren't slippery with mold, and the afternoon is mine. I left work, and went to the gym. I exercised, then left and had lunch with Kristen. She left for points west, while I walked through the Back Bay back to my place, watching old people stroll slowly, watching babies in adorable sun hats laze in strollers. I dropped my gym bag off, put my laptop in my backpack, and walked over to the local independent coffee shop to write an article for InSite. I think, as of this moment, if you open up Webster's, you'll see a picture of me, iBook and iced coffee at my side, beaming happily, next to the definition of "yuppie."

And I wouldn't have it any other way.