Dear Diary:
Everything happens just as it should,
August perspiration stinging my eyes
during the long wait for an express bus
and, of course, this sluggish queue of traffic
approaching the Midtown Tunnel.
Even the potholes make perfect sense.Everything is exactly right -
like this sudden downpour
as I drag my suitcase
from the bus to Penn Station.
The broken escalator - have no doubt -
fulfills a noble purpose.This horde of tourists on the stairs,
stopping every few steps
to look around in wonder,
does not so much block my path
as point me to a better way,
only seconds till departure time.A benign universe delays the occasional train.
All is in order, all is well -
my aching plantar fascia,
the brevity of gratitude,
even the mind game of acceptance,
everything just as it should be.Read all recent entries and our updated submissions guidelines. Reach us via e-mail: diary@nytimes.com or telephone: (212) 556-1333. Follow @NYTMetro on Twitter using the hashtag #MetDiary.
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