January 23rd, 1979

When I stop writing for awhile it’s difficult for me to begin again. Using this typewriter may have caused a feeling of permanency to what I am writing–or importance, maybe– that keeps me from writing more frequently.

Wendy and I are learning so well– as time goes by– to live together well. Our needs for daily companionship are so perfectly suited; our needs for space and the contradictory need for intimacy seem to coincide constantly. The odd moments when we don’t seem to mesh are dismissed by both of us instantly; the many moments when we relate to each other so totally are treasured and valued spontaneously by both of us.

—-

Much domestic activity tonight. A couple of weeks ago I joined Holiday Health Spa– something we have been talking about doing for a long time. Wendy was out of town when I did it and she joined the day after she returned. Now we’re both feeling marvelous– both from the actual physical energy we are finding and the mental high we are feeling about actually doing something very selfish and positive for a change. I am dieting (nibbling, eating very little) plus exercising like crazy. Also drinking beer and smoking dope and getting very high. Somehow it is an energetic high though. Tonight I washed all my clothes, cleaned my bedroom, changed the sheets, cleaned out my closet, ironed a shirt, and washed the dishes. I also fed the dogs and whipped Luke for peeing on the floor.

Another night in suburbia…