The gray dawn foretells a gray day. As I survey this small plot of land, I see little of note and anticipate less.
Terror grows in me as I face the prospect of boredom. How shall I escape? Where will I find exhilaration? What if I fail in this?
Such termites, Lord. Let them crawl away and leave me.
With less distraction, I may see more clearly the treasures you have left for me. Lord, make me a joyful being, smiling at dull days.
(Letter #1,742)