I was at a concert last night in my beloved shore town refuge of Asbury Park and it dawned on me halfway through that we’d not only bought tickets to a show on a Tuesday night, but had to make a two-hour round trip commute in order to attend. When it comes to the work week, most people don’t want to do a darn thing after the five o’ clock hour except make a quick dinner, kick their feet up, and watch a Netflix show or two before retiring to the bedroom to count sheep. The concert was a blast, and it was a nice reminder that you don’t have to wait until the weekend to enjoy doing something that you love. Unless it’s a two-day getaway adventure type deal, because then you’re paddling up the proverbial creek with only your hands and maybe a borrowed fallen tree branch, but for the most part everything else is fair game. Perhaps tonight we’ll hike up a mountain and then rappel down from the triangular cloud-engulfed precipice…or maybe we’ll rustle together a quick dinner and continue our Curb Your Enthusiasm marathon on HBO Go.
Searching for new reads?
Poetry about Strange Cars or maybe a fictional novel journal about a Dioramist protagonist who struggles with a passion for writing and a former love? Be sure to check out my published wares on Amazon if you’re interested.
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