I buy a Sausage McMuffin at 11:00 on a Sunday morning, while wearing a spangly cocktail dress and Saturday's makeup. I fall in love with a mediocre restaurant because the waiters behave as if they've never had a customer before in their lives. I inform a fellow partygoer that I do not judge, I merely mock. I choke with laughter when a guy my own age looks disappointed that I am not 24, and wanders off to find an actual 24-year-old. I do an interpretive dance to the techno version of Total Eclipse of the Heart. I prepare an awesome black bean and corn salsa, opt for flats, buy too many tomatoes and wash the dishes.
And I get it all done by noon on Sunday, so I can spend the rest of the weekend watching DVDs in my pajamas.