JANUARY 1 1966
Mummy bought me this brand new diary for Christmas. It’s a jolly nice, leather-bound one, and she says that I should write in it with the fountain pen that Grandma Quimbly bought for me on my last birthday (the one that I had to have removed from my nose after the joined-up handwriting accident).
Mummy says I should use this diary to write down all of my adventures and dreams and wishes and things. So I shall.
Happy New Year!
BORED BORED BORED!!!!!!
FORTY-SIX YEARS LATER….
NOVEMBER 12 2012
Picked up this old diary. How things have changed. What a lazy child I was. I clearly had no application as a youngster. No drive. No focus. I’m going to start keeping this diary again, and if nothing else will show my younger self how it’s done and the kind of thrusting, driven, successful man that I’ve become.