p25  May 23, 1941 . . . .

Monday. Track today. I was once told that the best thing in the world for a person was a run in the morning. If this keeps up much longer I am going to be so healthy they will have to chain me down. Or more likely I will sicken and die and they will be able to bury me in a •four‑foot coffin. My other wife ran to the start of the hundred in order to loosen up and had to lie down and rest until he got his breath back. When he finally finished running the hundred there were cinders all over his tongue.

Tuesday. The yearlings have even started screaming yea furlough at reveille. Pretty soon someone is going to have to tell my other wife that he is not among those eligible to go. I fear me the effects the news will have on him. He is so intense about things. The time I told him that the head of the math department was a man and it was no use leaving burnt offerings outside the Academic building he became very cynical. It was not until he saw a ground‑hog one morning and thought it was an elf that he became his happy sub‑normal self again.

Wednesday. I wish the yearlings would stop talking about furlough. Everyone I know thinks it is impolite. My other wife got tangled in his red comforter today. With his usual haste at jumping to conclusions he thought it was attacking him and put up such a strong defense that he almost bit off his knee‑cap. I told him about furlough today, but he doesn't believe me. He just said that was exactly what he would expect from a schlemiel like me and went on about his business.

Thursday. My sane wife worked with my other wife this morning on a field problem in surveying. My other wife's way of recording notes by putting down "about the five mark", "way up at the top of the rod", "the rodman's nose" and such has completely unsettled him. He keeps walking over to my other wife and touching him. He has just told me that he is real all right and gone over and touched him a little harder than usual. I suppose I will have to clean the place up.

Friday. This •half‑mile run is something I do not like, because I am a little anemic. Now five red corpuscles are enough for ordinary use but when one runs a half mile they go off in a corner and sulk. And there one is, dead. If one more yearling tells me that I will get mine next year I am going to fall out all over him.

Saturday. The usual Saturday disaster. Several yearlings reported for packed suitcases in rooms. As their hobby lately has been packing and unpacking their bags they are very irate.

Sunday. One more yea furlough and I will go cafard or something equally picturesque and destructive.

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