Appropriate

"Dear Diary," she wrote, bending forward with her eyes close to the page, "I'm going to hold off on my life of crime." Her pen moved easily across the paper (her hand relaxed and her resolve firm). "There's a difference between isolation and solitude; new ideas are coming and I finally have time to rest and let them mature." She took a deep breath, appreciating the silence as well as her mood. "I'll go stark raving, violently mad later, at a more appropriate time." She blew the candle out, content.