May 24th, 1975
Another Saturday. Just like last Saturday. I am sitting at the dining room table, just like I was last Saturday– facing a dirty house exactly like last Saturday.
And life goes on.
Richard’s discontentment with our life in the suburbs is a source of constant antagonism to him. Our very world seems to be anchored in antagonism. We are antagonized by the weather. We are antagonized by our jobs. We are antagonized by our debts. We are antagonized by our poverty. I am not speaking of actual material want. We do have enough. But we seem to constantly be struggling to get by. Uphill battle constantly. The house is old and in need of much work. We neither have the time, the energy, nor the money to make ourselves comfortable in this house.
Richard talks of moving back into the city after we return from vacation this year. He wants to totally refurnish our lives. He intends to sell all of this outrageous worn and tattered furniture– move into a nice new apartment and buy new furniture.
I am not sure that we have the wherewithal to accomplish a move like that. The expense would be great. It would involve diving deeply into debt– and spending the next couple of years getting out of it.
And, I am completely unsure as to what I want to do. The main element to my existence is weariness.