Pay day yet again. John and I make a feeble attempt to catch a bus. Arrive in Guiseley in a terrible mood. I am ususally a placid character, but I wouldn't say shy. Tonight though I feel very angry. I only ever experience such anger several times a year.
John wants to go for a drink so we go into the Drop - can't stand the place myself. Ask the tarty looking landlady for two pints of bitter. She answers: "Don't you mean two shandies?" After a five minute argument about our ages I tell her to "fuck off". I will never darken the doorstep of that place again.
Disturbed that June did not contact me. She thinks I am unaware of her drifting away from me.
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Saturday March 21, 1987
Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ As you have no doubt fathomed by now our plans to move from the Moorhouse have grounded on the rocks of apath...
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