Monday, November 14, 1983
Never again
Over the past week I’ve let work, letters, everything slip, and as I write this I feel disgusted with myself. I missed my Black Americans seminar today too. I’ve only just this minute finished my ten-½ side essay for Ted Coates; Freddie Hubbard plays softly in my room.
It’s been bitterly cold today. We spent most of it huddled under blankets. Ade made an appearance in the afternoon and quite calmly announced he and his girlfriend have split up. She turned up on our doorstep agitated and tearful in the evening to sort things out but Ade had left, leaving a note saying he never wanted to see her again. She came and sat awhile in Pete’s room with us watching TV, her long dark hair hanging over red, tearful eyes.
I haven’t heard from Mum and Dad or anyone for ages. I’m £80 overdrawn and I spent over seventy pounds this past week.
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