I love visiting New York, especially when everything goes right. The weather is delightful, all my favorite New Yorkers are in town and have time free to get together, I'm in a great class (for once), there is tons to do, I like my hotel. No wonder I'm in such a great mood.

When I got up, it seemed so dark outside. It was the cumulative effect of tinted windows, the bulk of nearby skyscrapers, and a cloudy dawn, not to mention the late-rising sun at this time of year.

Carefully clad in good-old "business casual", apart from my biker jacket, I headed up Seventh Avenue the few blocks to the enormous office building where my company rents half a floor. I was struck by the masses of purposeful (mostly) men streaming out of the subway portals at regular intervals, all intent on reaching their jobs on time, most of them looking as if their job was the most important in the City, if not the World. Of course, I probably look the same most mornings to those tourists at which I glance so enviously when I'm on my way to work in San Francisco.

The morning rush to work of grey faces and black suits

What can I say about the 47th floor views from our New York office, except "Wow!"

View towards Central Park

Neighboring skyscrapers

This class is the single class I've been sort of looking forward to. It's concerned with the object-oriented application-builder software my company produces. It's one of my main areas of expertise, and the major reason I was hired. This class should bring me up to speed with the latest version, which is just being shipped right now - a very substantial upgrade to the previous versions. But no matter how interested I am in the subject matter, it's almost impossible for me to sit in any class without falling asleep. I spent two hours in the afternoon propping open my eyelids. Even the view from the classroom, with it's everchanging sky, and the banks of clouds receding over New Jersey, couldn't keep my attention from the insides of my eyelids.

Don't laugh, but of late I've been concerned about my stomach. It just seems, well, a little less taut than it used to be. Not sure why. I didn't go running for almost two weeks, but I can't believe that would be the cause. In any event, laying aside the possibility of paranoia, I decided to go running after class, for the second day in a row. If you've ever thought of going running down 7th Avenue at rush-hour, think again!

I'd planned to get together with one of my best friends, Dennis tonight. He lives in Brooklyn and is, amongst other things, an excellent artist. But he had someone coming over tonight to take photos of some of his paintings and wasn't sure what time he'd get free. While waiting for his call, I got in a good workout in my hotel room - just situps and push-ups (I'm never sure whether to call them "press-ups" or "push-ups").

Finally, it became obvious that Dennis wasn't going to get free early enough for us to bridge the East River between Brooklyn and Manhattan and get together for dinner, unless I was prepared to stay up late. So I called him, and we rescheduled for brunch on Saturday. That left me free for a quiet evening in the hotel, ordering a slap-up prix-fixe dinner (watch out, stomach!), and listening to the yawning drone of Bill Bradley and Al Gore in debate in New Hampshire. Put the two guys next to each other, and there's no question in my mind that Gore is an android from another dimension.