7.17.2017

Journal, April 12, 1977 PM

Life continues. <Sofia and I are still enjoying each other’s company, “still checking each other out.”> We had a pretty active Semana Santa {Easter week}. We went to Orosi and to Lake Fraijanes, and also on a picnic in the pastures near her folk’s house in La Asunción. She likes to go places & do things, and I find it entertaining too, although at times a wave of boredom & guilt sweeps me away. I need purpose and direction to be content. If it is that I’m capable of being content! <Sofia notices when I’m even a little bored or distracted by thoughts beyond the immediate.> It can’t be helped. It’s the way my mind works.

I am busy nearly every waking minute, and yet I feel like I’m not doing anything of worth. <I only feel genuine & complete fulfillment when I make love to Sofia, and when she snuggles up beside me and places her head on my chest to sleep.> The tremendous emotional attachment we have developed in our month of living together, and the thorough understanding we have of each other’s inner motivations, does not cease to amaze me. I feel like part of an epic love story, and as a character in the tale, incapable of describing adequately its power and many facetedness.

I feel insecure in my work situation. Carlos Reed seems to be doing something very worthwhile, budgeting his time, playing the complete lab technician. I’m dabbling in things that interest me but little. I have to be careful not to let my ‘give a damn’ attitude surface. I read dull research articles to pass the time and possibly find a tidbit of useful or interesting data. I help Renán {Molina} with any routine lab task that comes along. In terms of personal or technical intellectual development I accomplish precisely diddley-squat.

On the political scene, 3 bombs were set off in Costa Rica yesterday. The intelligent guess is that they protest the killing of Carlos Agüero Echivería, a guerilla of the Sandinista liberation movement, by Nicaraguan authorities. Agüero E. is the son of an exiled Nicaraguan and a Costarican woman. Born in Cartago {Costa Rica}, he was raised here and studied here before entering law school at the Central American University in Nicaragua. After a trip to Cuba he joined the Sandinistas. Apparently he had friends here. I saw his picture in the paper. He looked like an intense idealist. I’ve seen Fred Tracy with a similar set to his jaw, and a similar stony look in his eyes.

No comments: