Wednesday, November 18, 1981
The weather was abysmal. Despite Claire’s presence, I was utterly, stiflingly bored. She was too. Sighs, small talk about Tony, Michael, etc. . . . I hated it, and I finally comprehend how utterly nothing I am to her, the small, small part I figure in her scheme of things. I feel like I have nothing outside of school; meanwhile, other people are forging ahead. Right now I’m doubled up with frustration, anger, and inner hatred.
In the evening I watched England triumph 1-0 over Hungary.