September 17, 1975: Wednesday

Went up to the lab and fell asleep in the office. Tried to sleep all morning, but it’s hard in a chair with your feet on the desk. So I slept with my arms folded across the top. Except you hear everything better.

Dr. Dick got all my symptoms. I just can’t seem to wake up today. And I burp a lot. He wants me to get a nasal wash.

In the afternoon we get things into the pick-up. Two thousand pounds snugly fits. We give Sam Morgan endless hassle about his first trip out onto the ice. We got a note from NSF saying the holes at New Harbour are not feasible and to concentrate on holes close to home. We don’t understand. They must have thought the ice was only a meter thick.

It’s snowy. Blowing snow, poor visibility and gusty. Weatherman says it will clear up. Sure. But I still have to get up at five.

Went to the Library. Dan’s the Librarian. They’re giving away free paperbacks. I see (good ones only) Dr. Zhivago and some science fiction. I’ll go down and take a hard look when I get done with Ivanhoe, which is getting better and better. (It always was good.) They have Nicholas and Alexandra. Dan says it’s the Movie on Sunday.

Tim calls me Raoul. Funny, that’s what I told those two broads in the City my middle name was. Paul R(aoul) Baer. He wants to know if I’ll be here Sunday for his Zig-zag Show. Gee. I want the weather to be good tomorrow so we can get back.