Step carefully, now, For a house never sleeps; Beware of the hallway... The second plank creaks! The stairs to the basement Will yawn in dismay At the touch of a stranger Tiptoeing away. Hush!...not a word Near the southern most vent... (On revealing one's presence This house is bent!) For an echoing message Will rumble and shout; "Someone is here, Of this there's no doubt!" Step carefully, now, For a house never sleeps... Quietly whispering, A vigil it keeps. Lauren Isaacson January 27, 1981 Change. It seemed too simple to be the cure for depression; nevertheless, a cure it was. Not all changes would be as easy as quitting a job or dropping a class; I would not allow myself to be fooled by my relative success regarding the cessation of dieting. Some changes, I realized, would hurt myself and others, and these were the ones that would deal with my freedom. . . my time; they would be the most important changes of my life, and to forever avoid these would lock me in an unhappy state of being. One day I knew they would be faced, for to deprive myself of happiness would be a deprivation of growth, and life without growth would be worse than death. Thus, before growth's stagnation, change. Mar. 15, 1981... I can live, love and laugh because I have known my emotions; I have experienced ecstasy as well as depression. Serenity, though, lies midway between the high and the low. I was staring thoughtfully through the windshield. "I think maybe the reason I can't make decisions is because I lack confidence, I guess." Norm glanced over at me from the driver's seat, his eyebrows punctuating a look of disbelief. "Man," he said, "That's great!" enjoying the moment to its fullest. My statement had rolled from my lips with unflinching honesty. It was a gut analysis, a spontaneous reaction that could not be retracted once spun into words. I shook my head. "It's pretty pathetic, isn't it?" I laughed. It became the joke of the month between us, made more humorous by the fact that it was true.