My couch is glorious. When I come home from a tiring day or week, I am day dreaming of that moment I walk in, pour a glass of wine, and sit my ass down in yoga pants and a sweatshirt. Hulu is on. Lights are dimmed. And my calm sets in.
But c’mon. A year from now. Five years from now. Will you be raving about that night you stayed in and watched 5 hours of Apple TV? Probably not. Those nights are typically a blur and mesh together. The nights we remember, are those quality moments with friends and family…
The day we missed a chance to go to the museum, and instead ended up at Chelsea Market, got wine and cheese, and then street tacos – because why not. And then had to check out the neighborhood wine bar I’d never been to.
The night your friends and you celebrate the world series win at a neighborhood pub.
The night you shot limoncello because you didn’t realize your friend’s Italian family sipped it after dinner as a digestif.
The day you walked all over the city after a blizzard and saw the city dusted in white snowflakes with your little sister.
The time you got caught in a monsoon and still walked from midtown to the upper west side, because you wanted to show off the sights.
The all-nighter on your last night in Malta.
Running a 5K because your friends are doing (oh and it’s good for your health).
A whole summer, with one best friend, with a city all to yourself.
Walking around Paris, and literally eating 15 macarons in a day.
Having dessert for dinner.
A picnic on the river.
…finding new sides to yourself.
These are memorable. They are forever. They are embedded and apart of who we are. So, I try to resist the urge to fall into my comfy couch and never get up for hours. I try to resist the urge to be lazy when I have an opportunity to make more memories. Whether it’s as small as a glass of wine with a friend, exploring a new neighborhood. You never know whether that wine will lead to street tacos or something more.