I miss
having a proper breakfast, with a table napkin and second servings
rather than juggling the daily newspaper, my iPod, iced coffee and Danish in the crowded subway train
lazy Saturdays when I used to listen to the words of Liam Gallagher in my broken in flannel pajamas
rather than having to go to the gym at 7 (because that’s the only time its not packed), and then rushing to work
having a list of ‘books I read this year’ that have nothing to do with work
the carefree days of youth
I never imagined a decade ago that I’d be the sort of person who can fill hard drives with work stuff before the year is over, but have a surfeit of unanswered messages from friends and family.
