What I did most today was walk. I walked across Central Park, from the West side to the East side, along the bridle path which runs along the reservoir. The park is full again, bursting with foliage, a continuous chain of green leaves from treetop to treetop. I walked through Bloomingdale's, up to the third floor to return a dress, then down to the second floor to return a bathing suit and I walked out almost $500 richer, or $500 less in debt.
I walked from Astor Place to the East Village, and if I added this walk to the trek across the park, I'd almost walked the width of the island. I walked Mister President around the East Village. In the crosswalk on 7th and A, a passing dog rolled belly up and Mister President made a fast friend. Then the light changed. A few hours later, I walked Mister President to Union Square and met up with a friend who wanted to walk to Washington Square after sitting at her desk all day. We all walked to Washington Square park. A homeless man approached and asked if he could ask us something. Or, he said when we squinted and didn't respond, you could tell me to go away, to scram. My friend said scram, and then he asked if he could pet the dog. People like him must get tired of the hesitation that meets every question.
Mister President and I walked home, veering out the path of every spray hose along the way. Now I'd definitely walked the width of the island. Mister President slowed to a mosey. He was avoiding the rest of the walk. When we got home, I gave Mister President dinner. And then I went out and got myself some dinner, which required me to walk more, and then some.
