Sensuous

4 April — Sunday

Bored to death.

Would call that bored housewife, speaking of bored, but not on Sunday when the source of her boredom is probably home. But I’m always working during weekday office hours. I suppose I could call her some lunch hour from a phone booth. If I really want to.

Feel almost like calling Wayne and Maureen. But I don’t think so. The one time was novel for the three of us but a second time would be a bore for all three of us.

Bore. Word keeps coming up today.

Just stopped and called the single guy who is so proud of his cock. The one I decided never to call. No one was there. Of course not. I was supposed to call him afternoons, so that must be his office, and this is Sunday.

I’ll have to write some more letters. I wish I felt like it but I don’t.

There ought to be something I feel like doing.

I already watered the plant. It still has the same three leaves. I suppose that’s something to be thankful for. It could have lost one of them.

What I should do is buy the kitten and let the kitten eat the plant and die of philodendron poisoning, and then I would be carefree again.

Ha ha ha, but actually I think it would probably bother me a great deal if the plant died. Which was one of the reasons and probably the main reason I was against getting it in the first place.

Something I read today. In the Times Book Review section, a review of...

No, forget it.