Dearest Diary,
It is perhaps a peculiar evening to denounce the sorts of foods which are provided free of cost in most eateries tomorrow. But I have again decided that waiting for an urge is sometimes a preposterous idea. I am rarely compelled to move so vigourously around the gardens, nor am I interested in eating but a salad for a meal. But there are moments when such action is required whether I am particularly excited about it or not. Urges cannot be trusted to arrive when they are most needed.
So this evening, I took matters into my own hands. I dutifully increased the pace of my evening turn and declined the opportunity for dining out. It seems but one evening and only one occasion, but I am hopeful it might make repeating the occasion the tiniest bit easier.
I can certainly think of some pleasant company if he would consent to join me (though I would never ask) on the morrow...
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