Rosemary called. The tone in her voice was cheery, but I could tell she was still upset over last Thursday. Her philosophy is to put things behind her and worry only about the future. Unfortunatly, this leads to the suppression of many an important occurance.

"Dad died. But I do have a date tomorrow. I wonder what I'll wear."

It's okay. Rose is, for the most part, an alright girl. She's just got some shit to figure out. I suppose the best of us do.

As for the apartment situation, I'm about ready to sign the damn lease and pay what I have to; anything is going to be better than living in this rat trap. Plus, I doubt the place on Thurman Avenue will have upstairs neighbors who insist on sharing their intimate activities with the rest of the building.