March 29th, 1978
A rare treat. I take the day off. Actually, I have been not too well for a couple of days. I wonder if I am developing a physical malaise to justify a day home from work. I hope not. I don’t mind lying to them– I don’t want to lie to myself.
A slump seems to possess me. For two days now I have been nearly a zombie. Mildly depressed. Slightly disoriented. Completely disinterested. Dragging myself through my days like a corpse.
I resist work. I torment myself so with guilt for having no energy, no zest.
I resist rest. I twist and turn with my anxieties.
Jets rumble through the sky.