April 27th, 1982

A rainy Tuesday night. I left the office at 2:00 today— for a dental appointment. I had my teeth cleaned. Proud of the fact that I am caring for my teeth. Then I walked Sadie over to her vet and had her nails clipped. Like a neurotic mother I poured out a litany of supposed ailments I thought she might have. She’s overweight— but otherwise quite healthy. I walked over to the East Village tonight— basically to see Jim and give him his resume, which I’ve typeset for him. I got to the East Side early— and stopped at a diner and had a cup of coffee at the counter and watched the rain-slick street and felt how I adore just being in New York. A young Ukrainian man and what appeared to be his sisters were behind the counter. They were all plump and healthy and kind. And innocent in a way that I found fresh and endearing. A very old, short Ukrainian man came in and had a bowl of soup. They all knew him and spoke to him. Mr. Klinie. I thought of my grandfather. I watched how kind they were to him. What goodness there is in life.