7.13.2017

Journal, March 2, 1977 PM

Today is another pretty average work day, but tonight and tomorrow the wedding prelims take over as the major focus of my actions. <I have to buy more liquor in Heredia today, and Fred will be at Sofia’s for dinner tonight.> Tomorrow they deliver 10 cases of beer to El Ande (and possibly the pop if I find the proper place to order it from today).

I feel more nervous about getting everything organized than about actually getting married. The decision to marry and undergo the hassles of a big wedding celebration has already been made. I’m immersed in details of the event. That in no way implies that I have no doubts about the whole enterprise! <Sofia is a high risk person to marry.> She is opinionated and demanding, perhaps even “high strung” fits. She expects a lot from me, but conversely she promises to give a great deal. She’ll never bore me to death, though she already bores me at times with her gossiping with other women & her detailed analysis of trivial internal matters of her family. She’ll pull a new initiative or attitude out of her hat every little bit! She may become a monster if she doesn’t adjust to the fact that I can’t and won’t attend to her needs and whims with the good-natured solicitousness her family does.

<Sofia says I must correct and constructively criticize her so that she may grow.> She says her family doesn’t do it enough and that she can take such things better from someone she loves. I hope she was sincere about that, because I’m making a special effort to make mental notes of things she does that I disapprove of, and finding an opportune time & way to express the gripe & suggest alternatives. It’s tough. <Sofia is an argumentative person, and if the criticism is not properly aimed & properly cushioned, she starts a frontal defense (or counterattack) without pausing to consider the constructive merit of the gripe.> I even love her in those moments. She’s so open and frank and blunt without malice! But I’ve yet to live with her. We could clash royally, who knows?

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