Thursday, February 23, 1984

I can't find the spelling for a particular word in my dictionary. Part of the A section, part of the W section and all of the XYZ sections are missing. When I call the library to find out how to spell a word, Diane laughs at me. She's seen my dictionary and it's missing pages. It reminds me of my bathrobe, extremely threadbare, and although my bathrobe doesn't bother me, it does bother other people, especially Love when he was alive. I insisted that he take the money he was going to spend on a bathrobe for me and put it towards fixing my refrigerator /freezer at Christmas. I'm not particularly money-oriented, as far a personal belongings are concerned, and realize they don't bring me personal happiness. Nevertheless, I can't adequately live without a big refrigerator with freezer.

Mom is now catatonic. Her doctor has ordered a brain scan.

Cilco, the local gas and electric company, has sent a bill, it is now a whopping $427.00.

Mom has been turned down for insurance. Does that mean that I will have to live here if she dies, even though I've envisioned an efficiency apartment in Mom's house? Without insurance money the next couple of years, unless she lives, I can't possibly build the efficiency apartment.