March 18, 1948
Today. Today is the day. Today is the day that I break free from the shackles of poverty; today is the day that Benny, and Mama, and Travis, and Ruth and I say goodbye to the life we live. The feeling of coming back, smile on my face, liquor license in my hand is going to be sweeter than never holding the car door for a white man again! Hot dog, I can't wait to "change our lives" (108). But now I got this money I can. Today is our day. Today is my day. Today...
March 19, 1948
'How' is the only question I have to ask. How can God be so cruel? How can Willy do that when "I put my life in [his] hands" (128)? How can I ever look into the eyes of Mama again? How can I ever look at the tombstone of my dad again? How can I look at Beneatha knowing that I'm the reason she can't be a doctor? I don't know what to do anymore. I tried my best and I messed everything up so much more. Yesterday may have been my day, but today--the day that really mattered-- wasn't.