Thirty years ago today
On Wednesday I didn't work. I made a few calls from the phone booth and rounded up some work for the next week. Mike Copping didn't come by. I got some cleaning done and watched TV. I started diminishing my amount of TV watching by a couple of minutes every week. I was almost finished reading On the Road by Jack Kerouac for a second time out loud. I planned on going through it a third time while making notes and then doing some writing of my own in that style. I was spending my rent money and hoping that the cheques I would be getting on February 12 would cover the difference and help me to get caught up. I needed a lot of empty hard cover writing books for various things: astrological notes, notes on the Marquis de Sade, my own poetry, and various pieces of info from my drawer. I was going to work on biographical notes until I got a new book for astrological notes.
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