It’s 8.20 pm and I’m on the red line, pretending I’ll make it to the National Palace Museum which, I just found out, stays open ’til 8.30 and is FREE on Saturday evenings. Optimism is the name of the game, none of that glass half-empty shit. But when I step off the train, IT’S RAINING! And I left my coat, which has a hood, because it was warm this morning.
But no worries. Even ugly sweaters can keep you dry. BUT I shortly find out that this is not so, and I try, try, try to keep in mind that even if the sky takes a shit on your plans (or lack thereof), there is always a next time.

The end.