My day-long recovery from Nuit Blanche continues. The experience was different this year compared to last. More socializing, way more drinking, a little less art - which is why more of my photos ended up like this:
After a pit stop at my place (read: more drinks), we hit West Queen West. The move to Liberty Village meant no sponsored exhibits along Queen, so it felt a little less special this year. We were also extremely disappointed to find the upper floors of the Gladstone closed at 3:00am. At that point, the group started to break up and head separate ways so I started my walk back home, popping into the Great Hall along the way just in time to catch a jam-band cover of Boogie on Reggae Woman. It was the perfect capper to the night and reminded me of why I love Nuit Blanche so much - it brings people out into the neighbourhood. Exploring my hood at 3:45am felt more like 3:45pm.
Of course, the day after has been a complete write-off. I blew off brunch with friends to spend the day nursing a hangover. Being hungover makes me feel depressed. It's a mix of post-party let-down and the feeling that I'm wasting the day. Yesterday, I had thoughts of spending today working on crafty projects. Now, it's 6:00pm and I'm still in my pajamas. At least I knocked off all my chores yesterday. I usually procrastinate and put off everything for Sunday afternoon, which leaves me feeling stressed out and dreading the start of the week. Now, my place is clean, the groceries and laundry are done and I can nap on the couch guilt-free. In fact, I think I've seen the light and will be making Saturday my chore day from now on. I didn't realize how important a true day of rest could be to my mental state.