Weekend: Mexico City
Last Wednesday morning I woke up somewhat hungover to face the usual work-related e-mails, along with a lot of other e-mails I’ve probably unsubscribed to at least five times. The sun filled my room with a warm light, almost as if it was trying to lure me outside with the promise of spring. Falling for it, I stepped outside underdressed—hoping that somehow that would make the weather warmer—only to grow increasingly miserable with every new gust of icy wind. This has been the worst winter I have ever experienced since moving to New York.
I came back home— bacon egg and cheese on a bagel and coffee in hand— to officially begin my day. Earlier that month some Russian friends had invited me to join them in Mexico City for a small skateboarding trip. Prior engagements had kept me from being sure if I could take any time off to join them. Taking a break from working on the screen, I looked at another smaller screen, and there I could see them all on Instagram enjoying the sun and sights of Mexico. On a whim, I checked ticket prices for that day, and that night I was on a red-eye flight to Mexico City. It is certainly an unusual feeling to wake up in a country you never intended on being in 8 hours earlier, but everyone needs a break from the routine. I spent my long weekend eating incredible street food, skateboarding in the sun and finally went to bed exhausted but content.
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