I have to blow off some steam. I find it difficult to grasp my pen properly because I keep trying to hold it in my fist due to my frustration right now. It would look terrible if I tried to write while holding it like a child throwing a tantrum, however, so I will simply take a few deep breaths and recount what has me so flustered at this time. Perhaps a few better topics to start with will help me regain a level head and unbiased recount of what happened. I would like to try and keep it at least remotely professional.

I should probably start by saying that Overcast's party was a huge success. Even with my limited knowledge of how to manage a celebration like that, the rest of the ponies were more than willing to take matters into their own hands to make up for it. I approached Julienne once she was at her station, and merely mentioned the word "Party" before I saw a sack of flour ripped open next to her and measuring cups already on the move across the counter.

Before noon, the dining hall looked like a rainbow had exploded inside of it and was still leaking color into other parts of the settlement from all of the decorating they had done.

There was the issue of games, but Willow was able to help inspire at least a couple of amusements when he picked up a branch and swung it over my head to knock a hornet out of the air. When I instinctively ducked under the swing, two ideas came to mind: Limbo and a Piñata. We had no candy for the piñata, but Teardrop was crafty enough to make some glitter out of salt and dye, which surprised quite a few ponies when the piñata (a ceramic jug with some bright paint on it) finally burst open to create a shimmering cascade of bright powder throughout the dining hall.

Music was solved somewhat easily once I brought it up. Rabbitfoot knew how to make a drum, and with a little help from Willow who whittled out a hollow cylinder, he was able to secure some taut, tanned, leather material over each side. The drumbeat, combined with a bit of hoof stomping and Salmon's ability to whistle in three octaves created a rather intriguing sound throughout the party. Of course everyone also sang Overcast that birthday song he wanted to hear. I did not join in, but only because I had no idea what the lyrics were. I will have to memorize it eventually, but I believe he forgives me for having to sit out on the singing while I learn the words.

Overall it was an enjoyable experience to be a part of, and even though I cut out of the party a bit early to return to my office and sift through some work orders, reports, and building plans I had been given the day before, I could still hear the festivities continuing for a couple of hours afterward. I was still smiling as I had to light a few candles to continue working that evening. It seemed the whole settlement was quite happy, except one individual.

"Where have you been?" I heard Dawnstar chime to me from the second story of my office as she came down the stairs, her typically neatly-combed mane in a frazzled state as she glared out of my window toward the loud dining hall. "A whole day wasted with nothing to show for it. Can you believe this? I've been trying to find you most of the day to see if you'd talk some sense into them, but you've been off and about doing Celestia knows what! You could at least try to be professional and leave a note explaining your absences."

"Ah, my apologies, I wasn't aware that I had to explain myself to my intern as though she were my supervisor." I spoke with quite a bit of venom as I finished scrawling an idea on one of the building plans for Blueprint to review and finally looked up. "I should have been more aware that you're in charge around here though, considering you've even gone so far as to take censorship of my postage into your own hands. Am I in your desk too?"

Dawnstar stared at me in bewilderment, mouth agape as I scowled from my desk. "What?" She began, shaking her head in refusal. "I'm not in charge here, you are. I'm just a student; I was just saying that you could at least be bothered to let your assistant know where you're going off to in case something important comes up. If you need an example, perhaps you'd like to know that today's productivity was approximately 0% as everypony dilly-dallied about for some silly party?" Whipping her mane out of her face, she shot me an indignant look, "And what do you mean censoring your postage?"

"Oh, so you aren't in charge? That's right, I remember now! You're just some bookworm from Canterlot looking to become a leader one day who is here to learn from my example, and I happen to be the one who is the Development Coordinator here in Songring. Color me surprised; by the way you are rebuking me for not having a doctor's notice and an eye witness account for my absence today, I could swear you either have to be my mother or my boss!"

"You're obviously in a poor mood, Mr. Prodder. I think it would be best if we just parted ways for now until you're able to get a grip on yourself and speak like an adult," she barked, ready to head back up the stairs to her own little corner of my dining room to wait for me to "Grow up".

"Oh no, I believe we should talk this out right now. Speaking of bad moods, do you know what Overcast was up to last night? He was sitting alone on the beach with a cupcake he had stolen from the storeroom as a birthday present to himself. He was waiting on anyone to show up that even knew he existed to just say happy birthday to him. Poor thing. But who’s to blame? He didn't put in a request for anyone's attention between 7-14 business days beforehand, and we can't be bothered with such petty concerns as his special day of the year if he can't be inconvenienced to give us proper notice." I saw her bite her lower lip at that statement, and in my ire I slammed my pen to my desk and sat up to continue badgering. "Or do you by chance have something you wish to give me?"

"I am not censoring your mail!" she protested, stamping her hoof to the ground. "It was just a simple, stupid letter asking you to announce his birthday to everypony! You're much too busy to do something so asinine as to give daily announcements like that. Overcast can get the initiative to tell everypony himself, or he can spend his day alone! We have much more important objectives right now than placating everypony!"

"Oh, so you're not censoring my mail? Yet you read and refused to give a letter, that was addressed to me, to me? Please, go on: I want to know what you'd call this then. What terminology can you pull from your grammatical pucker to justify this?"

"I don't have to take this verbal abuse, Mr. Prodder," she informed me, turning her head away as she started towards the door with a huff. "You're just being a boor, and I'll not stand for it."

"True, you don't have to take it, but you're fired if you walk out that door. Hope you're ready to walk all the way back to Canterlot tonight if that's your choice." There was a choking silence that followed as she stopped with the unseen grasp of her horn having halfway turned the handle of my office door. I watched as she turned back around with a fearful visage; her ears lowered as she had to trudge back in front of my desk. "You're right: You don't have to take this verbal abuse, so I'll go ahead and sum it all up into a few simple rules so you can go about your night. You do not have the right to censor my mail: Anything you receive that is addressed to me will go straight from the sender's hand to my desk with nothing in between. You do not have the right to decide what is or is not important enough for my attention: You will not omit any details, facts, or opinions you are given from your reports to me. You do not have the right to tell me how to do my job: You are here to learn from me and you will conduct yourself like an understudy acting under my direction, not the other way around. Are we clear?"

It was obvious that she'd had enough by that time as she looked at me, lips tight, and simply nodded. I was unable to tell if she wanted to shout at me or cry, but it was enough to let me know that the message had gotten through. After the quiet continued for a minute longer, she uttered a soft, "Yes sir, I understand."

"Good. Now, you may go about your night. The party is still going on I believe; it would mean a lot to Overcast if you'd show up and wish him a happy birthday." With that she finally left, and I locked the door behind her to have a little time alone. As I've been writing, Willow has repeatedly tapped on my window, trying to get me to unlock the door and let him in. I can only assume he was out there for the entire conversation, and has something he wants to say to me about it. I really don't want to hear it to be honest. As I have refused to hear him out, he has spent the last ten minutes trying to condensate my window with his breath. He seems to have succeeded, and is writing something with his tongue.

"TOTALE BAWS."

Oh lord, he can't spell.