I'm making it hard for me

Insofar as: I have a paper due tomorrow, what I have been neglecting for months, and instead am drinking wine at people again, this time on a hotel roof (accessed by key card, in exchange for photo ID, as per phone call arranged ahead of time) in SoHo, with the beautiful people - again, my age (I have wasted my life). The hotel is marked only with by an address - "60" - short for "If you are from Saskatchewan, you don't even know that 60 Thomson is a hotel SO KEEP WALKING". Four - no less than four - doormen lead me in, I am drunk on rosé.