I've been up since 3 in the morning. It's now just about 6:30. Not just up tossing and turning, but really truly awake, reading The History of Reading by Alberto Manguel. Well, in the beginning listening to my upstairs neighbor walk back and forth endlessly across the apartment's hard-wood floor, wondering what could explain someone walking back and forth endlessly across an apartment, let alone doing it at 3 in the morning. Then finally giving up altogether, turning on the light, and picking up the book. And yet it doesn't make me feel productive in the least. One good thing is I'm ready for this early Central Park walk today. No trouble getting up, at least. Leaving here soon with my friend Morning, before the kids are even awake.