Fridays' marked the end of the work-week and the beginning of the weekend. I usually woke-up lighter and a little less stressed on Friday, and always looked forward to the weekend to unwind and hit the fancy club scene. The sun was just as bright as every other summer morning, and it played hide and seek with the clouds and skyscrapers like it does with every sunrise. I was also impressively out of earshot from the gloriously-not-so-glorious morning New York traffic, so I couldn't really complain about noise pollution. The sheets on bed was replaced yesterday and they were crisp and comfortable, so I couldn't really blame my bed for the lack of sleep I had last night. Basically, the only reason I woke up with a gloomy mood this morning was because of the little lie I weaved that would most certainly be my undoing.
The only thing to blame was my tongue.
