I’ve been journaling for as long as I can remember. And I generally practice one rule on that front and one rule only: I do not go back and read what I’ve written. I have this rule in place for a few reasons, not the least of which is letting go of things I’ve written about. But if I’m being completely honest, the main reason I don’t re-read my entries is I have zero-point-zero interest in boring myself to death. And y’all, reading my past journals would surely bring about my slow, dull demise.
Anyhoo, the other night I grabbed my journal, and in searching for the next blank page, the book fell open to a rather short entry, scrawled in almost illegible handwriting…
“I’m glad I know how to make a super dirty martini. Life is good.“
Hmm. Me thinks I might have had the tipsies when scribbling that one. Duh.