June 7th 1993
Oh my heavens, I met the most compelling person last night. She had long, flowing chestnut hair and eyes of clover-leaf honey. And that enticing Manchester accent is just… well, enticing. She is Dad's health care worker. Her name is Daphne Moon. What an enchanting name. It instantly reminded me of that Christopher Cross song about being caught between the moon and New York City.
What a beautiful evening. I felt like singing in the rain rather than joining Dad and Frasier to dine at a place called the Timber Mill. I can safely assume that they arrived at that name from how their steaks were as tough as wood. The ambiance was quite amusing which included a very good portion of my Hugo Boss tie which was lacerated from my very own attire.
Earlier today, I worked with a new patient. He claimed that intelligent people tend to make him violently angry. When he asked what he should do, I bravely replied, "I don't know."
It was a beautifully brilliant, luminescent full moon last night. There's that word again: "Moon".