January 11st, 2023
I haven't left home today. I have been reading a manuscript. Academic publishers send the manuscripts they receive to experts for evaluation. I decided not to accept those requests during my sabbatical but got them. I will finish the reading in a few hours, but I still have to write my evaluation.
It's not good for me to stay at home. I'm seized with apathy. I don't feel like doing anything. So I'm now pausing to write in this journal before going to the public library.
From my apartment window, I see the school buses. The morning has been grey, but that doesn't stop families from sending their children to school. Afterward, the people walk to work down the street. They are in a hurry. At this time, only a few men are left chatting peacefully, despite the freezing day. I like to live in Harlem.
The train runs less frequently than in the morning. I hear its noise every few minutes. I want to board it and ride to Tarrytown or someplace like that, quiet down on the Hudson. Reading by the river is nice, but it will be better when the winter is over.