Dearest Diary,
While it does seem futile to qualify my absence of yesterday anymore, I nevertheless feel compelled to do so. I have given heed to the fact that I shall not always log an account of each day, yet I feel somewhat the worse when I do not. Last evening, however, again held the company and confidence of very dear friends and I found myself unwilling to sacrifice those precious moments for the sake of my Diary. I plead with you not to take offense at such a gesture but to afford me the luxury of a rest from time to time.
I am certain that such a speech implies a want of freedom. It is not so. I value our time together, dear Diary. Let no one or no thing convince you otherwise.
Having remarked on the events of the evening previous, may I now give an account of the delectable Italian dish that was served. You are well acquainted with my monthly dinner parties and I am pleased to remit that yesterday's was every bit as successful as the many previous have been. I have made an oath to continue to invite more guests as the months come and go. Your name may well be on the guest list in no time at all. For I am eager to excel in such talents.
At present however I find myself somewhat deterred by a lone blemish very near my heel. I had a rather unwelcome encounter with a tiny insect at the schoolhouse on Friday, and the wretched thing has left me in quite a state with no means to satisfy the eternal itch.
As for the remainder of the weekend, I was fortunate to attend the services this morning and I am quite fond of the parrish to which I have been party for quite some time, but I am oft eager to attend where I might be introduced to some ladies and gentlemen nearer my own age. I am certain they attend, however the introduction is harder to come by. I have attended some smaller gatherings in this region and while they hold my interest for many reasons, I still seek the companionship of those nearer to my own condition. Would you consider such a need too selfish? Ought I to attend for the mere enrichment instead? For I have often struggled with the notion myself. I have no answer.
In its stead, I shall consider the schoolchildren and the lessons forthcoming and shall put aside my concerns about the parrish. I must retire to my quarters. I shall see you on the morrow....
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