When I was freelancing full time I used to sleep really strange hours so at 9am I was often still awake after plugging away at a story all night. I’d go to the corner bodega and get a toasted bagel and OJ, and then walk back with a quiet, peaceful sense of calm that seemed to be reflected in the streets around me. Or maybe it was the city that was resting and I was simply luxuriating in the moment. Whatever the case, I’ve missed that feeling for almost a year as I’ve aggressively slept in every Saturday morning to recuperate from the work week’s splintering weight. Perhaps it’s time to take up yoga.