My sleep was deeply troubled last night, and the early dawn made clear that there would be no catching up the lost hours on the other side of the morning, so I rose early and began trudging down to the Awl offices. Along Second Avenue I found myself behind a gentleman who was wearing the rumpled clothes of the previous evening. At first I thought the might be one of the new summer homeless, but he stopped at the corner and hailed a cab. After telling the driver his destination, he lowered his head and held his face in his hand-the universal symbol of regret. READ MORE