January 12th, 1980

High anxiety on a Saturday night:

Met a cute little number at The Snake Pit last night. He seemed to think I was the hottest thing he’d ever run across. He was out with friends and thy left to dance at The Other Side. He almost didn’t go with them, but I reassured him that I would be back again tonight.

Nine days into my diet and consequent sobriety. I fret at the idea of tricking without the benefit of alcohol. I am well aware of the ways I have abused myself with alcohol– but it has always been an effective social relaxant. I am much more hyped up sober than after having had a few. I am uptight, critical, analytical; the opposite of relaxed. I worry at how I would feel bringing a trick home and being stone-cold sober.

Damnit! I will not fuck up nine days of dieting by drinking tonight.