May 30th, 1977

Gregg showed up at the door at 9:00 this morning looking like death. Saturday, after working all day long, he and his friend Kelly– left for Connecticut to get Gregg’s belongings. With Kelly’s two screaming kids (one of which is 11 months and in diapers) they drove all night– rented a U-Haul when they got there and then drove straight back. Something sad about Gregg looking beaten and battered packing the last few cardboard boxes out into the alley. Endings have some frightening power over me.

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Fighting a mild depression, I sleep all day. For the second day in a row. I react physically to the emotional environment of all this change and movement around me.

I long to be energetic and vital. Excited and busy. Instead I drag myself through one grey day after another. Getting fat and hating myself for it and chain smoking and sleeping.

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I have to go clean my kitchen. Oh well…