Today, after I left work (having spent most of the day working fairly autonomously), I went to see a movie about a closeted gay kid in 1984 with some friends.
From there, we went to a bar for a drink and some board games, and met a guy who's a day out after seven months in prison.
And then (having waited a suitable amount of time between the drinking and the driving), I headed home, radio blaring, and heard stories of the newly pardoned Scottsboro boys and the three women in London who recently escaped decades of slavery.
I don't think my evenings often have themes, but when they do, they do.
Day 21 of our month of gratitude: I am thankful for more kinds of freedom than I can count, including but not limited to the ones I so often take for granted.