Wednesday, January 01, 1992

I'm sitting here, just feet away from the family, and I am not happy. As ever, their presence is annoying. Bert changing directions in the kitchen every time you try to get around her. Lo sulking around the house, copping her attitude. Lucille wandering around in her accustomed daze. I love them all, but this is the way I see them, and there could be no truer representation of the reasons why I have to get out of here.

I'm suffocating here. But then that's old news. Hopefully I'll remedy this soon.

As for other, happier things ...

I've set up the bass cabinet so that I can most likely go ahead and pour the resin to remake on of the damaged corners. The latex rubber mold is in place, held there by an epoxy glue. I'm not sure if this will work, but I'll have my fingers crossed.

I suppose I should prepare to draw those pictures for Bert, Lo and Mike. I still have to give Lo that $50 for the credit card phone call and find some way to pay my loan payment besides, not to mention rent on the storage building, which is due today.

I spent $20 tonight which I really couldn't afford to spend. I partied a bit with Rick, Cisie and Terry Jackson. It was strange in some ay, but it was nice. I think the oddness was due to my own eccentricites. I was in an odd mood and when we began to mix B-52's, coke and weed, perhaps the mixture brought out what I was already feeling.

I don't know.

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