Ruined

I cannot help but admire Charlotte's publication of Jane Eyre. While I have not yet met the entirety of the book with completion in reading, I have been more than satisfied with the romance to be found within its pages (a matter of import to a single young woman). However, as I was pondering the novel in English 495, the one male in the class found it incumbent to discuss how the book shall end, and what he thinks of it. He must have failed to see the look of horror cross my face; this detail did not go unnoticed by my professor. She reminded him gently that some of us are reading the text for the first time. The boy smirked, as if he enjoyed the knowledge that he has read amongst the Bronte authors more thoroughly than his female counterparts, and would not in future-time hold back his comments, but rather spoil each novel until there is none left to be enjoyed. I have concluded I must read the next assigned novel, Wuthering Heights, with greater fervor and diligence, so that its ending is not ruined as Jane Eyre's hitherto has been.

Humours

I do not speak of humours that are delightful and result in mirth and joy ("humorous," as it were). I speak of the humours which must be kept in balance in order to enjoy full health. As of late, I have suffered an excess of black bile. Perhaps upon my next visitation to the market, I will pick up some victuals of comfort--such as mint chocolate chip ice cream, which isn't entirely authentic, but then again, neither are Neapolitan ice cream sandwiches--to restore the balance of my humours and to improve my feelings.

Birds

This morning I was awoken by a twittering of birds from without the window. It would seem they are building a nest above the drain-pipe, and through the diligence of their labors must produce the most profound racket. The creatures are not even pretty. While I did rejoice in the consideration that I will be vacating this residence upon the commencement of June the eighteenth, I mourn now in the knowledge that I must return in some months and by then there will be more than two little birds who will wake me with their wretched warbles.

End

Rumors have reached wide circulation that the 21st of May 2011 will perchance be the Rapture. If tomorrow is indeed the world's end, I will be sure to keep company with a more righteous person than myself and grasp him firmly so that, should he be lifted up, I will not be left behind.

Light

I spoke to the owner of the estate in which I dwell about the exceedingly bright light that shines through my window unceasingly during the nighttime hours. She advised me to address the village about the issue, believing it to be out of her jurisdiction. I wonder at that, for it was not the village that put the light upon the side of my residence. Upon a furtherance of thought, the woman proposed that I invest in curtains. My friend with whom I share a room will not take kindly to this suggestion, I fear.

Knives

Whilst scrubbing the kitchen utensils (alas, we cannot afford to keep a maid), I could not help noticing a surplus in the number of spoons in the washbasin and a lack of knives amongst the cutlery. Perchance the knives have been borrowed by a neighboring party, and we will not see them again? It will be very hard indeed for us to butter bread. One might hope for a bounty of knives when there is not one to be found.

Cats

As I was strolling the about the university grounds, I happened across a cat directly in the course of my path. I paused to consider the creature, which did not take any notice of me. 'Twere it a black cat, perhaps I would have been in for a spell of bad luck. One must be wary of such occurrences and take careful note lest others should face similar encounters. However, the animal's coloring consisted only of brown, grey and white, and so I did not fear but continued on my way.