2016 May 5:

I decided to try writting a diary to help me be better @ expressing myself, which doesn’t look like it’s working well now cuz I keep having trouble thinking o what words to use. But that’s OK, sense I guess “custom makes calaber”, or howe’er that saying goes. Autumn did say that I could change to be a better person. I hope she’s right.

Anyway, ¡I wanted to write specially now cuz o’ the excitting day I had! I still can’t believe it! I ne’er thought I’d be able to work anywhere, having no skills @ all, ¡but I was able to get one! Aparently the owner o some place called Kat Insurance was looking for a mascot & said he was impressed by my “cat costume”. I tried telling him that it isn’t a costume, but he seamed to still think it is.

I was fraid I couldn’t do the job & would be fired soon, but I was able to do it it turns out. All I had to do was hold this sign up in front o the building. ’Twas awfully cold outside & holding that sign up for hours did feel kinda tiring, but I can probly take a coat tommorrow &, anyway, as I heard Autumn say, “no misery, no victory”, or something like that. I bet if I do it for a while my arms might get stronger & it won’t be as tiring. Honestlly, I was so excitted today bout actually getting a job that I hardlly e’en noticed, anyway. I know it’s not the hardest job in the world, but it’s still nice to be useful for once. I probly shouldn’t say stuff like that tho cuz Dawn says I should think positivelly.

Anyway, n ( I need to stop writting this so much ) Not much happened during most o the day, cept me standing round holding the sign & looking round @ the city. It really is beutiful ( I hope that’s how you spell it. I need to get myself a dictionery, cuz I’m not that good @ spelling. ), specially all o the colorful cars that drive by in many different shapes. When it got darker, my boss, Sir Wednesday, said I was done & could go home. That was awfully nice o him, considering he could o expected me to know when to go home & do that myself, sense I should o known already.

Anyway, I got back to Dawn’s & told her the good news. Unfortunatly, I accidentlly forgot to tell her when I 1st got the job, which was probly rude o me, & she said she was worried bout me. I probly shouldn’t be thinking this kinda thing, but I don’t know why Dawn doesn’t spend her time worrying bout people who deserve it mo. E’en with my new job ( which really isn’t that amazing, anyway ) I still can’t see myself really being the kind o person who makes good use o it. Someone who’s great. O well, I probly shouldn’t write bout this kinda thing.

Well, that’s all I have to say for today. I’ve written quite alot. I usualy don’t write that much, sense I don’t have much to say ( aleast not anything very smart ), but Dawn told me I should do it to help me express myself mo. She said I shouldn’t do it e’ery day, tho, cuz it might get tiring, just when something important happens, like today with this new job, which I’ll try to do.

Anyway, this entry’s getting rammbly, so I’ll just end this here. As you can see ( as if anyone else will e’er want to read this ) I’m not very good @ writting, but hopefully I’ll get better @ this as I keep doing it too.

Felix Spero

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She’d been thinking ’bout it for a while & decided that the gingerhaired thiefrat that Moneybags obsessed o’er would have to pay. She was thinking ’bout it while walking down Habanero Highway, which always reeked o’ gasoline on the desert afternoons, on a trip toward Verditropolis, which she was now thinking she’d have to postpone for a bit. She was in 1 o’ her millions o’ disguises, as she always was, & was on the move. She didn’t think she was wanted for anything, but there was no reason to stay in any place long ’nough to become wanted.

She kept eyes all round her: tho the rat didn’t seem dangerous, she knew her knowledge on the subject was short & stunted. Hell, based on what she knew, she ne’er would’ve guessed she could’ve been robbed.

She still wondered ’bout that, still rolled the memory thru her mind as if it’d just occurred. In the apartment that she rarely & temporarily called her home, nondescript, no different from the other thousands that infect the city, she was rummaging thru her bookcase where she hid most o’ her funds & noticed her funds missing. The books themselves were in the right place, down to the Talented Mr. Ripley being tilted gainst the right end; but the stacks of orange bills wrapped in rubber bands were nowhere in sight or sense.

For a second she wondered if she’d changed her hiding place & just forgot. She remembered well ’nough that changing hiding places was a common tactic she’d learned in her ol’ days in SOA. But, no, she knew she’d been robbed. She could feel it. She knew gut feeling was a big part o’ her “career”, & she could feel it stirring now.

’Course, since Madame Autumn Springer was her only victim who was a thief herself, she was the obvious 1st target. & while the rat was good ’bout keeping any hairs or fingerprints from leaving her trail, the rat’s clumsy method o’ research, which was just asking round the apartment complex for info, revealed her like blood still sticky on her hands.

Despite this fatal flaw, she had to admit the rat was rather clever. ’Course, that would only prove her own brilliance when she managed to shut the rat down.

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