September 29, 2019

Rose long before dawn and walked, making unsuccessfully for the Starbucks at Ingall’s. Got there all right, but they were not operating. Two men were setting out jogging in black clothing. I thought I’d walk back in the rising light, but it was still dark then and is barely gray now. The season of long nights approaches. Counted on the walk to relieve some anxieties, which it did. The anxieties seem to be centered on the university. My mind says “it’s not your problem anymore,” but does not quite communicate this to the nerves.

Tried to make coffee at home but the Maxwell House had turned into stone at the bottom of the jar. Took Or Did a Sea of Fire out of mothballs and finally found a suitable denouement for Nighthawks. I think I can get The Christmas Count back into shape, my first play ever to appear in New York, on Theater Row while the Twin Towers still loomed over.