Stepping out into the howling wind, every cell in my body screamed to go inside.

Looking forward, I saw deserted streets and scurrying mice.

Trash littered the sidewalks.

Dimly lit roads and needles pooled around dark alleys.

And the stench of acrid smog and rotting produce invaded my nostrils.

Boston before 5 AM.

I longed for my bed.

For its sweet, comforting embrace, holding me as I drift into lofty dreams, far away from the nightmare outside my door.

I longed for slumber under the covers, fuzzy blankets keeping me from confronting the existential angst of another Monday.

But I’ve been down that path.

That wretched path of snoozing alarms and sleeping in.

That wretched path of repeating the same vicious behaviors over and over again.