Once upon a time, I lived in Brooklyn and occasionally went on dates with guys I found on OKCupid. In a depressed and likely alcohol-motivated attempt at getting over a minor sexual rejection, I accepted a date with a fellow I didn’t find especially interesting.
Sleeping on the floor did wonders for my backache. It also produced a wonderful clarity of mind and no-nonsense, no-bullshit attitude that I needed to survive the next day and a half. Or maybe I could just see the light at the end of the tunnel now.