I've kept a journal for several years now and find it hilarious when I look back at things I wrote about. I mean, some events were actually hilarious but others are so because of the way I wrote about it. Really, it was that important that it was all I had to write about that day?!? Since the summer I've tried to keep up with writing at least one line a day and that usually works out. Some nights though all I want to write is "3rd grade is sooooo ____________." And then sometimes, like in the grocery store or driving around, I think of something really good to write about. I don't get around to it til bedtime though and then I'm too sleepy to focus or even worse, my pen dies.
Random side note on Sylvia Plath: I've read The Bell Jar one too many times and I've always liked her views on baths and how taking a bath solves the worse of problems. Problem: She suggests taking the hottest bath possible. Don't! It makes you feel sick. Believe me.
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