Binghamton is cold and dark, always overcast. It is a depressant, like alcohol is. The two work hand in hand in that way because drinking at the end of the week in Binghamton is most important, even if it just makes it worse. Or drinking on a Tuesday or Wednesday or even a Sunday because why not. Binghamton is only not a depressant for me on the roof. My new house creaks. It was built in the 1880’s and raccoons go through our garbage. But there are cats who come to visit and mean dogs all along the block. I love them, even if they're mean. I might love them more because they’re mean, I don't know why. In the end of the summer, my roommates and I sit on the roof, talking too loud because it’s still warm out. My only thought then is that if I had just bought a sad lamp and if it wasn’t overcast all the time, Binghamton wouldn’t be a depressant, it would be fine.