4 My I’s ONLY
(Don’t Get Your Hopes Up)
Whenever I tell people I journal every day, they seem to respond in one of two ways.
1. “Wow. Every day? Really? That’s…dedication [insanity].”
2. “What do you [could you possibly] write about?”
Obviously there’s no literary genius behind my writing, as you’ve likely been able to observe from my blog; I just write about my day and anything I think is important, which usually amounts to me trying to make decisions and/or venting about the poor decisions I’ve made.
But the other day (on No-Blog Wednesday of last week), I was looking back through my entries and I decided I would give you a glimpse into the wonderment that is my journal. This will hopefully encourage those who are interested in journaling to do so because as you can see, very little mental effort needs to be involved.
Tips for starting:
Introduce how you feel. (“I feel like a loser.” ) Great! now tell us why…
Talk about yesterday. (“Yesterday was a strange day.”) Great! now tell us why…
Say what’s on your mind right now. (“I think I ate too much.”) Great! Please offer a detailed menu.
Discuss interesting things you’ve read. (“My daily devotional was a story about Balaam beating a donkey because the donkey could see an angel of the Lord blocking the path and Balaam couldn’t.”) Great! What can be learned from that?
Start with a quote. (“A man’s heart plans his way, but the LORD directs his steps.”) Great! You can’t top the Lord’s word. Just agree.
So, here are the first sentences (or two) from non-randomly selected entries in my journal.
Welcome to my life. –Brace yourself.
I am the epitome of time-waster! Yesterday I did Step class in the morning (and walked at night), and otherwise did nothing but stare at my computer and make collages.
My phone died in the middle of the night, so I woke up at 8 with gifts still unwrapped, and–needles to say–it was an interesting morning.
I’m so full right now, it hurts. Ughhh. On the plus side, we had a nice dinner yesterday.
I’ve done NOTHING this whole break except mess around on the internet. The one productive thing I did was determine I can pass the “Basic Skills” test to get my teaching license. Big woop.
I’m going to have to break my New Year’s resolution because the story won’t make sense without it. [well, that lasted long]
Man. I am SICK. I thought about waking up for spin class, which is funny because that’s what my head’s been doing all day and night. Ps. I’ve decided my New Year’s resolution was lame. I’m giving it up.
Yesterday! I went to Body Step—it was a struggle—and wrote a blog and watched 30 Rock and took a nap. Talk about productive! Then I went back to the gym, walked/jogged, exploded my Nalgene, visited Ashley, went to the winery, and watched The Words.
Okay. In between! First of all, I think the blog MAY have been a bad idea.
So, dating in Roswell just isn’t going to happen. This is why.
First, the winery incident—married guy.
Then, I did some investigating on the good-looking guy at the gym: taken.
Then, I went on a “date” last night. Okay, I understand that he might have big muscles because he’s built like a pitbull (no neck, mind you), but the guy looks like he’s made of leather and is at least 40 years old, not “early 30’s.” [Person Who Set Us Up], no, no, no, no, no.
Friday at last, Friday at last…Thank God Almighty, it’s Friday at last! (my tribute to the Rev. Dr. MLK in honor of his holiday this week.)
I had super weird dreams last night. The first was about [Person Who Set Us Up (from above)] who got caught making out with her ex-husband. What were you thinking!? Then I was at the public library, weaving back and forth through the aisles on some weird quest. One of the aisles had FOUR celebrities, including James Earl Jones and Bill Clinton (I’ve forgotten the others). Then we—me and some fancy woman who led another couple of people—had to escape, and we did so by jumping in a muddy river and covering ourselves with mud. I wish I could remember the other celebrities.
There’s an episode of Seinfeld where George does something, like give up sex or women or whatever, and he suddenly becomes super productive—and even smart (while Elaine becomes the opposite), and I am like George. I’ve given up the idea of having a social life in Roswell, and I’ve suddenly become productive.
Tuesday was non-eventful, other than wearing myself out at the gym AND not eating ice cream!
“It’ll be March by the end of the week” (to be sung to the Nelly Fertado lyrics: “I’ll find out by the end of the night”).
March 1 (written as 3/1/13 and noted as “a palindromic date!”)
It’s MARCH! Four weeks from yesterday is the start of Spring Break! Not that I’m counting.
Yesterday was an overall good day! I started my gratitude journal, but there was a pen incident which forced me to quit.
I’m having second thoughts and a mild panic attack about the CIA (Yeah. Fine. Whatever.)
SO. MUCH. TO. DO. Last night I didn’t even WISH to be drinking.
This time change is ridiculous. Who likes to “Spring forward” anyway?
I DID, in fact, walk what must have been 26 miles. I began at 9am and finished at 6:30. It, um, took longer than anticipated.
Yesterday was bad. I had a lot of things going unfavorably, most notably the San Francisco fiasco.
To address the San Fran issue, Ms Mc’s advice was to say: “I’ve decided against prostitution!” Then she really understood what I was saying and her advice was more along the lines of “It turns out I’ll be unable to come.”
Today is Good Friday. Perhaps I can not only avoid meat, but also ice cream. Let’s try that, Jenny.
So, I took off my pants in the middle of the night and I don’t know why. I imagine I was hot, but it was very strange.
Today: Bad decision Friday! Hopefully my blog readers won’t stop reading after this.
(I promise to never do that again.)
A moment brought to you by 30 Rock
Jack: How about the most we can spend on each other’s gifts is zero dollars?
Liz: Oh really? You want to exchange creative gifts? Oh—well—you are the one who’s in trouble now buddy because creativity to me is just like a *explosion sound* like a bird, like a friendly…bird that embraces all…ideas that like…shoots out of its eyes…all kinds of beauty.
Jack: Wow, Lemon, this is like watching Hemingway write.