Cities are strange and occasionally wonderful places. The strangeness hits me differently, depending on the days. Sometimes the hodgepodge of it all is too much: I feel an acute sadness pressing in when I watch an old man clutch the subway pole as three loud teenage girls bump against him, shrieking and giggling, with no regard for their surroundings. The crowded streets give me a near-feverish anxiety one morning; the next, they infuse me with energy. Something new around every corner! People! Cars! Noise!

I'm sitting on the couch drinking a margarita. A margarita-ish, I should clarify: a slapdash approximation of the classic cocktail; a quick and dirty template you can stir together without worrying too much about ratios or jiggers or ounces. Thanks to a good friend with a keen sense for home bartending, I have the technique down pat. Squeeze one small lime and one medium orange into a glass over ice. (Strain it if you're fancy, but, I'm not.) Add a 2 second pour of triple sec and a 4 second pour of tequila. Bad day? 5 seconds of tequila. Really good, celebratory day? 6 seconds! Add a splash of seltzer. Stir. Drink. Repeat.