February 14, 1996 – Wednesday – 4:30 p.m.

I didn’t wait until Thursday to go to the doctor.  My finger is broken.

My right hand is in a cast and I must write with my left.  Which is obvious, thanks to this nasty handwriting you are reading.

But, I’m still alive.

Mandy and I are writing each other.  That is good.  And the Oscar nominations are in.  Braveheart got 10.

I have to get Vince or Curtis to come to my room and button my pants and tie my shoes for me.

It’s Valentine’s Day, but I have no special friend.

This cast means I can’t ski for a while.

But I should get the cast off before Arizona.

Time is passing.

Nothing is lasting.

 

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