Sensuous

18 April — Sunday

Feel worlds better today. One of those twenty-four hour gimmicks, I guess.

I just spoke to the Bored Housewife whose ad I answered a few light years ago. It seems I always get the impulse to call her on nights and weekends, which are precisely the times when her Boring Husband is apt to be home. Decided the hell with it, there’s nothing suspicious about a woman calling another woman, and I called. She answered the phone herself, said her husband was downstairs building a model train. If that’s how he spends Sundays, I know why she’s bored.

Problem is where to meet. I told her I live with my parents so my place is out. Her place is fine, but only during business hours when her husband is away, and those are the hours I work. She suggested maybe we could go to a hotel room or something on a weekday evening. I suppose it’s possible but we didn’t make any plans. Left it open — I’m to think things out, and so will she, and I’ll call her back in a few days and we’ll see how it goes.

I don’t think I’ll bother to call her.

I have a feeling there are letters in my Post Office box. Would have checked yesterday but how? Couldn’t even leave the apartment. And today the place is closed. At least I think it is, and I’m not going all the way over there to check.

I’m sure it’s closed. Maybe the main Post Office is open on Sundays, but the branch stations must be closed.

Nothing more annoying than the certainty there’s a letter for you and no way to get to it.

Took my first pill today. Period just finishing itself up.

I can now fuck with impunity. Or at least without getting pregnant.