December 27th, 1972
One of the main reasons that I don’t write in this notebook with that certain fever that characterizes my getting my shit together writing is because I don’t particularly like this notebook. It is hard to hold– difficult to write in.
Margie and I have a new home. Yesterday when I got to work, Henry told me that he had mentioned to Gary that I was looking for an apartment and Gary said there was a vacancy.
My head is not into write.