Better Drink My Own...

Day One, 10 AM

I am alone.

It will be weeks before my companion returns, and I’ll have to get by with what meager supplies she left me. I won’t be able to forage for food, so these scraps will have to sustain me for as long as possible.

Everything will have to be carefully rationed. I can’t allow my natural urges to get the better of me.

That way lies doom.

Day One, 12 PM

I just finished off the only box of Thin Mints I had.

Impulse control may not be my strong suit.

Day One, 1 PM

I’ve been searching our supplies for something to drink, but it seems she took everything potable with her. I have found nothing but cranberry juice and strawberry kiwi colt-ade. What kind of pony could consider even drinking either?

They can’t be good for me, so I’ll set them aside in case I find myself desperate.

Day One, 3 PM

I’m convinced my water supply is unfit for consumption, on the grounds that it is totally boring.

Day One, 4 PM

Attempted to drink the cranberry juice. It seems to have gone bad, as nothing else can possibly explain such a vile taste.

Setting it further aside in case I find myself even more desperate.

Day One, 6 PM

Growing hungry, I take stock of my food supplies. I’ve done well for myself this first day, aside from the momentary lapse with the Thin Mints. I didn’t count the number of s'mores I made, but I doubt they impacted my supplies in any serious fashion.

Day One, 9 PM

“Mayomelettes are the new grossest thing ever.”