International Workers' Day

Morning spent dealing with Pending file. Lying on top of folder is bill for printing of Schedule of Events. Bill apparently due in February. Stamp with the special large stamp that provides lines for the budget number, date, and three signatures. Sign the Vice-Boss's name. Think cynically, that when am on othere end of stick--waiting for money--feel nothing like the same indifference--rather the contrary. Find several other extremely overdue bills, which take care of. Also find written request for brochure of Spring events (throw this in recycling bin.) Recycle fliers from events in October and January, also recept from deli, strange note to self that says, C. Mtng in April, see that file is empty. Decide to reward self with walk. It is beautiful outside. Go to local health food store to salad bar. Get Vitamin A salad, black bean sald, some sort of nutty red rice, and chicken leg. Take lunch to Washington Square Park. Sit on bench in location which allows filtered (through tree) sunlight to fall on face. Find everyone else in the park very decorative--man who looks like a dancer doing yoga on the lawn, european couple sitting across from me, man lying down on bench, woman talking on cell phone, even very pretty tall girl wearing old-fashioned basketball shoes (the kind that have two strips of velcroe at the top) talking into phone and sobbing, but walking briskly. Chicken leg perhaps not the best thing to eat on a park bench. Feel it is a small miracle that do not end up with chicken on shirt. (Small miracle only because it is relatively unimportant. Am only able to say relatively today because weather and mood equally nice.) After blissful lunch, walk through park. Lots of dogs and wish that had Jenny. In center of park around the fountain, there appears to be some sort of protest. Group of about twelve young people holding large red flags. Young woman on bullhorn giving speech about Workers. She seems very agitated. Everyone else in the park looks on with a lazy sort of interest, but nobody gets up to join. In fact, once the woman on the bullhorn finishes her speech, she hands the the bullhorn to her Comrade. She then sits down on the edge of the fountain and turns her face to the sun.