“The very reason I write is so that I might not sleep walk through my entire life.”

Zadie Smith

Some years ago, I started a blog chronicling my Friday nights.

I used to wish every day was Friday. Happy hour starts a little earlier, responsibilities dwindle – for me Friday’s always meant freedom, in whatever form it would take. The summer of 18 it meant road trips to a cabin on a lake. At 26 it meant my girlfriends and cocktails on various patios and bar stools. Now I’m more into whiskey and my friends filling up my kitchen.

A writer whose name I have failed to remember said that writing is having a conversation with life, and I couldn’t agree more.  I now write about everything that occurs from Saturday to Thursday too, and sometimes I share it here.