refund. I could make it to the end of the
month easy on that.
* * * *
March 19, 1978
It is Sunday and I did not have such a great weekend with the
typewriter. I think I burned myself out on Friday night and did
nothing yesterday except work on my tan.
It might be because Chap. 31 is such a difficult grind, and it may be
because I am no good. But I really think worrying about money is the
cause of it. I am broke. Either I get money soon or else I’ll be in deep
shit.
The hunger thing really does not appeal to me. Today I only
managed six or seven hundred words.
A dismal effort. Tomorrow I must call my mother and ask to
borrow some money. Groan. Normally I would not do it but she
owes me a giant favor. I spent three months and over $300 last fall
fixing her garage. Now it is usable instead of unusable.
As with any project relating to her, it started fairly small but
ballooned into this huge unbelievable undertaking, eating my days off
for three months. I did it mainly to shut her up but of course that did
me no good. She doesn’t ever shut up. Now she can do me a tiny
favor in return. Twenty bucks ought to cover me. That is how I will
put it to her in fact.
Talked to my neighbor Harry Williams today. He’s about my age
or so. Within a year, I’d say. Very pleasant and smart. He’s in the
process of getting a divorce from his wife, Shana.
Although Harry works hard and gives her every penny, Shana is
dissatisfied with their marriage and wants out. The marriage was her
idea six years ago – an "unplanned pregnancy" was the impetus. Now
that the child is older Shana is bored with Harry and disillusioned with
married life in general.
Women. The only thing worse than not giving them what they
want is giving them what they want. This is my interpretation as
Harry absolutely refuses to be critical of his soon-to-be ex-wife. It is
52
all his fault, he says, for spending too much time on business instead
of family.
For working too hard and ignoring her many complaints. I said
nothing negative about her while he castigated himself but thought to
myself that she has done a real job on him.
Not very eager to go back to work this week. If it weren’t for
Megan, I’d really fucking dread it.
* * * *
March 23, 1978
Finished Chap. 35 yesterday. On page 103 now. A difficult dream
sequence has gone pretty well so far. Expect to finish it tomorrow.
Work is a grind. But with Megan’s help I am making progress and
getting the hang of it. I like this kind of work much better than the
physical type jobs I have held in the past. All I really think about is
my book, though. I want to get through this draft in an artful fashion.
Borrowed $30 from my mother to get me through the end of the
month. I told her I’ll pay her back with interest the very instant I get
paid. Wish Oxygen State would send my balance because my refund
comes to substantially more than I currently owe them.
Talked politics with a quadriplegic client named John Delano
today. He says Jerry Brown will run in 1980 but thinks nobody can
dislodge Carter at this point. Mr. Delano says the system is ripe for a
political takeover, most likely a right wing one. He says the
Republicans will win with Ronald Reagan. I disagree.
Perhaps I am a foolish dreamer, but I believe our generation will
make some positive changes. I believe we will do the right thing and
make a difference politically.
* * * *
March 24, 1978
I may have to ditch this writing scam once I am finished with The
Dark City . It takes too much out of me. I am alone too often and I am
turning into a drunk. The booze doesn’t seem to hurt my prose – yet –
but I think it might be hurting me. I’m drunk now, really drunk. I
drink every night. I smoke cigarettes constantly when I am writing.
I’m smoking one now.
53
That idiot Chesley failed to take the phone out of the house on 25th
Street. Now I’m stuck with an extra three week $40 bill since
month easy on that.
* * * *
March 19, 1978
It is Sunday and I did not have such a great weekend with the
typewriter. I think I burned myself out on Friday night and did
nothing yesterday except work on my tan.
It might be because Chap. 31 is such a difficult grind, and it may be
because I am no good. But I really think worrying about money is the
cause of it. I am broke. Either I get money soon or else I’ll be in deep
shit.
The hunger thing really does not appeal to me. Today I only
managed six or seven hundred words.
A dismal effort. Tomorrow I must call my mother and ask to
borrow some money. Groan. Normally I would not do it but she
owes me a giant favor. I spent three months and over $300 last fall
fixing her garage. Now it is usable instead of unusable.
As with any project relating to her, it started fairly small but
ballooned into this huge unbelievable undertaking, eating my days off
for three months. I did it mainly to shut her up but of course that did
me no good. She doesn’t ever shut up. Now she can do me a tiny
favor in return. Twenty bucks ought to cover me. That is how I will
put it to her in fact.
Talked to my neighbor Harry Williams today. He’s about my age
or so. Within a year, I’d say. Very pleasant and smart. He’s in the
process of getting a divorce from his wife, Shana.
Although Harry works hard and gives her every penny, Shana is
dissatisfied with their marriage and wants out. The marriage was her
idea six years ago – an "unplanned pregnancy" was the impetus. Now
that the child is older Shana is bored with Harry and disillusioned with
married life in general.
Women. The only thing worse than not giving them what they
want is giving them what they want. This is my interpretation as
Harry absolutely refuses to be critical of his soon-to-be ex-wife. It is
52
all his fault, he says, for spending too much time on business instead
of family.
For working too hard and ignoring her many complaints. I said
nothing negative about her while he castigated himself but thought to
myself that she has done a real job on him.
Not very eager to go back to work this week. If it weren’t for
Megan, I’d really fucking dread it.
* * * *
March 23, 1978
Finished Chap. 35 yesterday. On page 103 now. A difficult dream
sequence has gone pretty well so far. Expect to finish it tomorrow.
Work is a grind. But with Megan’s help I am making progress and
getting the hang of it. I like this kind of work much better than the
physical type jobs I have held in the past. All I really think about is
my book, though. I want to get through this draft in an artful fashion.
Borrowed $30 from my mother to get me through the end of the
month. I told her I’ll pay her back with interest the very instant I get
paid. Wish Oxygen State would send my balance because my refund
comes to substantially more than I currently owe them.
Talked politics with a quadriplegic client named John Delano
today. He says Jerry Brown will run in 1980 but thinks nobody can
dislodge Carter at this point. Mr. Delano says the system is ripe for a
political takeover, most likely a right wing one. He says the
Republicans will win with Ronald Reagan. I disagree.
Perhaps I am a foolish dreamer, but I believe our generation will
make some positive changes. I believe we will do the right thing and
make a difference politically.
* * * *
March 24, 1978
I may have to ditch this writing scam once I am finished with The
Dark City . It takes too much out of me. I am alone too often and I am
turning into a drunk. The booze doesn’t seem to hurt my prose – yet –
but I think it might be hurting me. I’m drunk now, really drunk. I
drink every night. I smoke cigarettes constantly when I am writing.
I’m smoking one now.
53
That idiot Chesley failed to take the phone out of the house on 25th
Street. Now I’m stuck with an extra three week $40 bill since
Similar Books
