Today I went to work and the server didn't work. I couldn't figure out how to fix it and didn't know who to call.

I left the office early and went to see the Fairfield Porter show at a gallery on 57th Street. Mainly landscapes of Maine and lush greens and flowers. A couple great portraits, one of his son and one of a shaggy haired bearded man. A large painting showed a group of older people reclining in Adirondack chairs in a July afternoon. That this did not seem smug, or boring, or, say, elegiac, but instead inviting is a testament to Porter, the warmth of his tones and depth of his colors, the subdued, domestic, yet poignant quality to his subject matter.

I took the subway down to 23rd Street, and to the last day of this show called 'Swell', about surf culture and Southern California from the 50s to the 90s. It's supposed to be in three galleries, but I could only find one, and when I left I thought about asking the group of attractive gallery staff, busily typing on their computers in front of price lists which contained numbers in excess of my annual salary, but decided against it. Decided that the other galleries must be right next door. They weren't, and I walked down to 14th Street resolved to speak up, to ask a question if I have one, to say something if I think it.

At Nevins Street, while switching trains, I affirmed a young woman's question about whether an approaching 5 train would stop at Franklin Avenue.

Home, I went into my room and did 100 push ups, and around 200 sit ups, and rocked back and forth lifting barbells while perched on my wooden desk chair with its slightly over sized sticky pads on the ends of its uneven legs.

I put on a pair of corduroys and a white tee shirt and went to the corner deli and bought four beers. Now I'm listening to McKay's mix and plotting making an omelette, and considering the delicate balance between drunkenness and reading ability, and wondering if I'll finish Joan Didion's Play It As It Lays tonight, or if I'll have to abandon it for something less demanding like a movie, or music, or the Yankee game if I can find a quiet bar.

And that should bring us to tomorrow.