You know the feeling. You wake up Sunday morning in the Hamptons with crippling anxiety. How will I get home? Train or Jitney? Should I leave now? Or should I stay and try to have a day? Do I really need to be at work Monday morning?

As the day progresses and the drinks start to flow, you find yourself opening the Blade app. It's only $500, right? But alas, there are no seats left on any evening or early Monday morning ride. You're stuck with a three-hour journey back, but the question remains: when do you leave? This past weekend I did something I rarely do. I refused to let Sunday end, and it ended up being one of the best days of my life.

It started on the beach in Montauk. We sat on towels in various stages of mental and physical health, pondering how and when we'd return to the city. On a walk down the beach, I ran into a group of friends who were heading out to sail on Fort Pond. "I'm in!" I declared, mentally disposing of any prospects of the 1:40 train. We rented Hobie Cats from Puff 'n' Putt ($45/hour for up to four per boat) and sailed past Surf Lodge, heckling those unfortunate enough to be on dry land while we flew like birds in the wind across the pond.

After sailing, we packed into a taxi to head to the train station for the 3:30 train back to the city. As we drove past Navy Beach, I found myself staring at the crowds of Sunday revelers, rose in hand, basking in the afternoon light. "Stop the car!" I yelled. Five minutes later, my butt was in a white bean bag chair on the beach and I was three bites deep in truffle mac and cheese. The reggae band was playing, the sun was gentle and warm, and I found myself dancing in my bikini, not a care in the world.

But all good things must come to an end, or so I thought. The waitress spilled a bottle of rosé on my friend, the sun began to wane, and the water grew cool. It was time to move on. We loaded into the car, our hearts heavy at the prospect of a long drive home. But suddenly, the silence was broken when someone mentioned Wolffer Estate Vineyard, in Sagaponack. "Why don't we make a quick stop? Just for a glass of rosé and some cheese?" And just like that, Sunday continued.

Wolffer is magic at sunset. We wandered barefoot through the vineyard, verdant against the neon sky. The waitress poured us rosé and brought plates of cheese in various consistencies, with sides of preserve, olives, nuts and hummus. We indulged in our platter, and as we washed down the cheeses with the crisp rosé it was as if Monday didn't truly exist.

When I finally got home to my apartment, it was around midnight. It was cleaner than I expected, and I brushed my teeth and got ready for bed, tired but happy. I thought about unpacking, but decided to leave that for Monday. Today was mine.