Wednesday, April 18, 1984

Almost every night when I come home, Cecil is up, goes to bed shortly thereafter and gets up early. Tracy is home and already asleep or comes in later and goes to bed. She takes her bath or shower as soon as she gets up. I take mine when I get up or when I get home from work. We all seem to have perfect schedules for each other. Cecil and Tracy both seem to relate to me, and I can relate to both of them, but Cecil and Tracy don't seem to relate to each other.

All is well at work. I have the key or type facts into a computer, while I am talking to people with a telephone operator's headset. It was confusing at first, but I like it now that I've got it all together. The computer won't let unacceptable facts be keyed into it, which makes it easier. I like this job as well as I've ever liked any job outside my home.

I heard a song, that I had always associated with Love, on the car radio tonight coming home from work, and cried all the way home.

My bathroom carpet is soaked. I asked Cecil about it, but he told me he takes a bath, not a shower. I didn't splash water on it, because I always take a bath too. Tracy must have left the shower curtain outside the tub when she showered this morning. I haven't seen her to be able to bring up the subject. I may not see her for days because our working and sleeping schedules are so different. I checked under the bath lavatory to see if I had a rusted water pipe with a hole in it, but the plumbing is okay. Water from the shower had to be the culprit.

Congress made a law requiring employees of churches to pay their own Social Security tax. I don't understand why the churches don't automatically hold out the tax on their employees, the same as any other employer.