Dear Diary,
I am now ten days old. I'd like to think things are going well so far. I've got a good grasp on things, and am certain that soon I will be a master of everything, just as my Caretakers are.
In general, I am happy with my Caretakers. They respond quickly to my requests, and appear to genuinely care about me. I do have some concerns, however. They seem to make light of a few of the predicaments I have already encountered in my short existence.
Take, for example, the fact that my internal combustion engine seems to set off near-lethal explosions on a regular basis. A few times these explosions, which always originate near my bottom, have even woken me from deep slumber. As you can imagine, this is quite disturbing! I fear that if I do not get these explosions under control, they may do real harm. I'm worried that my bottom may blow clear off of me.
But my Caretakers, they do not share my concerns! In fact, they even laugh when it happens! Perhaps they do not care as much as I thought, and are just hoping that my defective system will soon spell an end for me. I will have to keep an eye on them.
Wish me luck, dear diary.
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