Journal, January 13, 1976 PM

I’m having a tough time getting thoughts together tonight because Barry Goldberg, a PCV {Peace Corps Volunteer} who just terminated, is here in the beach house and he and Jay are rapping away. I just can’t shut it out, and every once in a while they draw me into the conversation.

We finished the rabbit hutches for our expectant mothers today and that’s about all I accomplished. <I tried to call Morena - not there - and wrote a letter to Sofia that didn’t satisfy me.> I wonder if I really could keep the relationship with her going strictly by mail from back in the States for the better part of a year. After learning what real affection is, a year of “cold turkey” could be even more than a Spartan like me can handle. Shit, I’m not tired enough to sleep, may as well chuck this and write another quick letter.

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