For the first eight days of August she is home sick.  She expects to be leaving the first Saturday and is not and states:  “Honestly I feel terrible.”  And:  “If I don’t have something to do here I’ll go screwy.”  So she paints her nails and goes to church and plays horse shoes and goes swimming.  Maybe that sounds like a lot, but it is dull, and although she is making friends, Kay especially, she is away from her friends.  She gets letters from home and jumps for joy and spends time in a fantasy world where she imagines what she would be doing if she were home.  “If I went home tonight I’d go to Fleages and probably meet Penny and Drobey and have a good time.”
Even away from home she is not free from Drobey.  She is not free from thinking about him or angsting over his behavior.  “Jeanette wrote me that Caveman didn’t know I went away. S’funny cause everybody else new.”

Thankfully by the 9th something happens to liven things up a bit, a trip to Boston.  She marvels at how large the city is, she has never really seen it, but besides that seems to have very little fun traipsing around with Kay’s friends.  She comes back to camp, “home” she calls it, and is back to boredom.  She paints her nails and does her hair differently.  She sews a halterneck top, she doesn’t even go swimming often because of the weather.  She reads so much she describes black dots developing in her eye sight.

Poor girl, it’s been a lot longer than two weeks and she has another two days to go.  But whose counting?  She is.