Ten Little Missions

Cold, gray, wet. That’s the whole fucking weekend. The metro’s packed with sick people breathing on each other, the flu’s making the rounds, there’s nothing to do but stare at the ceiling or go out and do something stupid. I made a list to get through Saturday and Sunday. Ten ways. Some of it’s a joke. Some of it’s just dark. All of it beats lying around.

Get yourself in a tabloid. Doesn’t matter how, as long as no one actually gets hurt and you don’t sleep with a celebrity. Just be famous for being stupid. While you’re at it, open a gym, call it something ridiculous, claim the victory. These small things keep me moving.

Unroll your crumpled cash and count it. You’ll probably find money you forgot about. It’s boring but it works. On your next flight, full costume disguise. Change completely in the airplane bathroom, come back to your seat like you’re someone else entirely. The absurdity is the entire point.

Go to a brothel with friends and burn half your monthly paycheck. Live it. Find a song that hits you right in the chest—something that makes you feel like you’re dying in the most beautiful way. Patrick Wolf knew this about Time Of My Life. Don’t actually do anything permanent, but let yourself feel the darkness completely. That’s what the weekend’s for.

Quit smoking. You know it won’t fix anything, but you do it anyway. Let yourself want something obvious and stupid—money, height, the kind of looks that actually matter in the world. Waste three months teaching yourself something completely pointless just to pull off one ridiculous prank on your family. The time investment for a five-second laugh. That’s the math we’re all doing anyway.

Watch something real and let it inspire you to actually do something instead of lying in bed complaining about the weather. That’s the weekend. Pick a few of these. That’s enough to survive it.