I think it's a mistake to come to a new place on a Friday night. You have no one to go out with over the weekend (sitting in bar on your own your first day can be depressing), and nor can you get anything done since everything is closed. So you land up in your room wailing and whining to yourself about how you miss home and asking yourself why do you keep uprooting your life? What was the point of coming here anyway? (only when you are missionless like me, of course :)
All that takes a 180 degree flip come Monday morning. The city is hustling and bustling. All of a sudden you have a million things to do. Went to the school where I will be doing my TEFL, got my schedule, met some nice people, opened a bank account, booked some appointments to see apartments, visited the police station for details on my residency, and checked out some cool barrios. It's like this Monday morning gave me purpose, kept me busy and made me realise that I live here now - so I have half a smile on my face, just the reassurance I needed. Yes, I know I am a bit dramatic at times. Yes dad you were right. You always are.