June 7th, 1977
Bright beautiful morning. My last appointment with my orthopedist this morning. I got out of my car pool at 18th and Penn and walked the couple of blocks to the doctor. Washington morning at full blast. Traffic and the low vibrating of construction sounds and people swarming the streets bustling with early morning vitality.
I go to a coffee shop and have a cigarette and think of how very similar everybody really is. Essentially most of us are running the same movies inside.
It’s still the same old story… etc. Thinking how high my own life makes me some times. How happy I am with my own details.