When I get home from work at 11, there's not much I can do if it's been a stressful day.

Today was one such day, where my shoulders were tense, my back hurt, and all of the typical things that could go wrong when you're storing stress for other people did go wrong.

With no one waiting at home for me to give me a shoulder rub, I had to take matters into my own hands.

I put on my rollerblades. I went for a blade. At 11:30.

One of my favorite things to do in the world, better than pizza, is to rollerblade at night in the streets of New York.

I was wondering why I haven't left the city, after seven years of being here. I haven't come to any good conclusions yet, but one of the things that I adore, that makes me really freakin' happy to be here, is my ability to strap on blades in my apartment at nearly midnight and then cruise through the East Village, the West Village, SoHo, TriBeCa, and then back home again. To start with frozen fingers and lungs that feel like they're filling with asbestos, and to have them gradually warm up as you adjust, and to just go and go and go, dodging traffic, gliding over the city, and seeing what happens on a Tuesday night is almost transcendant it's so peaceful.

One thing I hate about the winter here is that I can't blade as much as I'd like to, since snow makes rollerblading impossible.

When I got home, I was totally relaxed, totally at peace, and I slept like a baby.