The day is Thursday. Oddly enough it’s been a bright and sunny day. Me, I’ve been morose at best.

It was most noticeable this morning while walking to the office in midtown Manhattan. The day started off kind of depressing. Nothing in particular but then again everything in particular. Perhaps it’s all from waking up on the wrong side of the bed, but then again if that was the case, everyday would be like today.

And it isn’t like this everyday..

What happened? Let’s see, I was almost hit by a Coach USA bus in midtown. The driver insisted he was in the right since the Don’t Walk sign started flashing as I was midway through the intersection, enabling him to justify almost killing me.

Flipping him the middle finger didn’t bring the satisfaction that it used to. I got the bus number, but not the ‘How’s My Driving?’ 800 number. Took a picture of it but by the time I got to my office I stopped caring. What is it with bus drivers? Why are they such an unruly sort?

Shortly after the bus incident, I walk past some guy with what appears to be Tourette’s Syndrome screaming quite loudly either at me or in my direction. So that is basically the start of my day.

My sister seemed to pick up on my blue mood 3000 miles away. She suggested taking a walk to clear my head, but having walked from 50th Street and Third Avenue to 30th Street and Sixth Avenue and then from the Path train to Sixth and Park in Hoboken didn’t clear my head to begin with.

I think staying in and not seeing anyone is the perfect remedy.

Last night after vacillating back and forth about whether to go out, I went out. I walked up to the Whiskey Bar a little after 9:00 and saw my friend John Williams play in his band, The Caterpillar Book.

Why the Caterpillar Book for a band name? I couldn’t tell you. They were good, competent musicians, John was a tasteful guitarist.

They write their own songs which made it odd to see them at the Whiskey Bar since it’s mainly a place where cover bands play. Pearl Jam & U2 tribute bands, but on Wednesday nights, bands playing originals are welcome.

The Caterpillar Book is pretty much a Jersey Shore band, good but a little too AOR for my tastes. But like I said they were good, but not my cuppa.

I also got carded at the door by a handsome cugine who could have been my son if not for the bulging muscles in the tight black t shirt and the black hair straight out of Bensonhurst.

I know this blue feeling, or period, won’t last and will probably be gone by tomorrow.

My three day weekend begins with laundry and then who knows?

I hope to get some bike riding in. Don’t know where to or how far but if the weather is permitting, that is what I might just do.

Right now I’m just glad to be home, away from people.

Ha! Juan just called, he might be stopping by. He’s not people.

The bus that almost ran me over. “How’s My Driving?”