Friday, spider-bitten just above the knee, is with me for the duration. Walked him up to Deaconess Hospital yestereve, saw him shot full of antibiotics; back here, barely ambulatory, sneaking in, where he slept ill, chilled with pain and spider venom. So I expect to have him with me for the next day or two, at least till he can walk. Vorrei piu'tosto essere da solo, ma non me ne piango, dato che faccia bene a un mio amico offrendogli l'asilo della mia camera e l'uso del mio letto.

Counting now the minutes till midnight here at the Palace, the dope (crack, meth, and pot) has arrived by thoughtful purveyors ahead of our pensions and stipends (for most of us, nous qui habitons 'ce pays-ci') paid out, or, rather credited to our bank accounts, at midnight. I've just had a taste of suspiciously meth-tasting crack cocaine from a neighbour wanting my opinion of a buy he'd just made; I thought it indeed rather a dull methedrine than a cocaine buzz, confirming my neighbour's own opinion. And I said thanks, but no, thanks, I didn't much want to buy any, whatever its immediately addictive properties. Friday will probably kill me when he finds out I turned it down. One sees how relative values are.