Dear Diary:
It has come to my attention that certain persons are distributing unauthorized memoirs of my life to the masses. Of course my exploits are numerous and fascinating, but I object to my heretofore limited editorial power. Thus, I have decided to set the record straight, to borrow a colloquialism, with my own records.
It has been two fortnights tomorrow since I have established my residence in my new home. It is an improvement over my previous lodgings to be sure, although the size of the staff is much smaller.
Full-time, there is only The Man and The Woman. I do question their experience compared to the staff at our previous location. The Man and The Woman were present to some degree at our former lodgings—in training, I presume—but there is much refining to be done in their deportment. My brother and I are up to the task, naturally, but it will take some time.
Their most egregious oversight so far has been forgetting to also move the poor fellow over with me. For an entire week! I was on the cusp of lodging a formal complaint when they must have realized their error and facilitated his transition. He was quite put out by the whole incident. Rightly so, in my view.
The part-time staff is numerous and, from what I have observed, generally more experienced. There are two women who make an absurd amount of cooing and other juvenile noises while providing service. I tolerate this with some annoyance. They bear resemblance to The Man and The Woman so I can only hypothesize that the lot of them possess some genetically-based intellectual deficiency.
These women are often accompanied by two men. I encourage staff to serve in pairs as it means I receive prompt attention; I strongly object, however, to the one man’s language. He frequently describes the execution of his duty as servicing my “crankshaft.” His agency shall hear about this, mark my words!
There is another woman whom I quite approve of. She was here yesterday evening, in fact, and brought an apprentice woman with her. My preference for her is based on her competence. She manages the demands of my brother and myself so well I can only assume she has had experience serving multiples before. I wonder if I can request her promotion to full time…
Staff aside, there are two other residents of the household. They are furry and possess four limbs, not counting the tail. My reading informs me they are cats. I do not object to their presence. Indeed, I fancy pursuing the tails shall be rather amusing once I am ambulatory. However the smaller one has attempted to sit upon me several times. I did not appreciate that.
Activities here are varied. We spend a fair portion of the day relaxing our faculties. Meals are frequent, though not creative. The Woman only knows how to prepare one dish evidently. I don’t mind a good bottle now and then but some variety would be appreciated! Periodically we are forced to endure a segment of time pedantically referred to as “tummy time.” At times I enjoy it. I need to strength myself to expedite the arrival of my ambulatory powers. Other times I merely wish to be left alone.
The staff also reads aloud to us. I approve! Consumption of fine literature is one of the many things setting us apart from the animal kind. Their title choices could stand some improvement. To date we have been read fairy tales, picture books, and adventure novels. Nothing near the quality of literature I prefer. I must discuss ways to introduce these people to proper classics with my brother over our next shared bottle…
We have received many visitors this week. Many of them bring us tribute in the form of clothing, blankets, and other small possessions. As it should be. I must find a way to use these tributes as an avenue for curating a more stimulating library. Heaven knows the staff could use the intellectual enrichment.
I shall write again when convenient, not before. Farewell.
–Justine Elizabeth