Is Wednesday really Friday?

For me, every Wednesday night is a Friday night.  My work week comes to an end around 4:30 on Wednesday afternoon and doesn't pick up again until Sunday night.  It's not like most schedules, but then again, I'm not like most people.  During my weekend, I'm out there pounding the pavement (read: beers), practicing songs (read: hanging with my band), and engaging in vigorous aerobic activity (read: flirting with cuties).  This lifestyle is not for the faint of heart.  As you know if you've been following the saga, I have nearly died trying to make my dreams of bohemia come true.  I believe not in the virtue of hard work, but rather, the virtue of hard play.  All things I do are part of the game of my life, and I don't take this task lightly. 
Some have misinterpreted my whimsy for flightiness.  Quite the contrary. I know exactly what I'm capable of accomplishing, and I don't intend to look back on my life and wonder "why not?".  I only give you the impression that I'm out of control, because you've never seen anyone so comfortable with her own fuck-ups.  And yeah, maybe sometimes I am a little too carefree (read: drunk) but I'd rather be honest than safe.  I mean really, what is the point of living if you have to be careful all the time?  Sorry folks, but it's just not for me.  So, perhaps against society's better judgement, I will continue to carry the torch of my bohemian vision.  I don't care what the people at Kaiser say.
And tonight, because it is Taylor's birthday, and because the weather is fine, and because he would have carried me on his back to the hospital if I'd needed it last Tuesday, I'm going out to Madrone to drink and dance and celebrate one of the best people I know, in the best city on earth.  When I'm no longer fun, and I need a walker just to stand up, then maybe I'll give up the sex, drugs, and rock n roll.  But even then... ;)