Dear Diary,
Clark and Brenda are five weeks pregnant! I'm overjoyed, though rather sleepy. Clark called me at 4 A.M. this morning with the happy news. He said they were going to wait until later that day to announce the news to their families and friends (read: everyone with functioning ears in all of London), but he couldn't wait that long to tell me. An hour has passed and I have not been able to go back to sleep. I am trying to convince myself that this is because usually, once I wake up in the morning, I never can fall back asleep. The alternate reason for my early morning insomnia is that I am more excited for Clark and Brenda than I realise. Why would that be, though?
The Tritons have been doing well; they both had received several scholarships for uni, so they don't have nearly as much debt as the most of people we graduated with. Clark is doing really well at his greenhouse; Brenda is teaching secondary school history, which of course doesn't pay much, but she has some good benefits.
And I'll admit it: I lost my diary early December of '52. I only just found it when I was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to go back to sleep after Clark's call. It was on the top of a bookshelf; how it ever ended up there, I may never know. Shame on me for not writing at all for a whole year and half, yes, I know. But truthfully… you certainly haven't missed much. Claire is doing well and there have been no advances in our relationship; I would certainly have told you if there were! Classes are as usual, therefore, life is as usual. Professorship seems further and further away all the time.