It is so nice to come to Summer Party on a rainy night. Here I am, writing bravely, even though I am apprehensive and melancholy. I must keep my spirits up. Today I did scarcely anything, and I feel so depressed for it.
On the one hand I feel like I have realized so many things, and I have a lot of good work to which I must devote myself. The thought makes me very happy. And on the other I never know what to do. To do anything, I guess I must put myself into it. I must not be worried about making a mess or leaving things half-finished. It must all happen a little at a time. I feel so frustrated that my days are so short, but really I pass through them and don't do anything at all.
Well, actually over breakfast I cried over my Victorian Trading Co. Catalog. One of the statues they advertised was made by an artist who stayed by a lake. A swan lost her mate and waited in the place by the lake where he died for a very long time. The park rangers had to take her away when the lake iced over because she was going to die. Then I started crying all the harder as I thought of Melora's songs and the Triangle Shirtwaist Fire. I guess it wasn't a very cheerful start to the day.