chatting

Justifying Why I Just Started a Blog

I have ten files on my computer, all named imaginatively with a date. The dates all indicate one of those Fresh Start Days. Those days when the sun is out, you decide to be super organised and super healthy, you gleefully screw up paper and wipe down your desk. On each of these Fresh Start Days I’ve opened up a Word document, spent ten minutes fiddling with the styles and settings (do I want my headings to have 12pt after? Calibri? Tahoma? Rockwell Bold?) and then smack my fingertips on the keyboard for ages about LIFE. Sailing in Greece! Houses with wraparound balconies! French-speaking men in glasses! The excitement of what could happen!

Shiny new Word document. Gives me a little shiver.
The ‘all characters’ symbol is called a pilcrow. Life lesson for the day.

My ramblings eventually get turned into an itemised to-do-list, which can get incredibly detailed. At one point I had a list that has 50 “achievables”, all then further broken down into “cross-off-ables”. I never checked back to cross off the ables, but it’s the thought that counts.

As well as the ridiculously complicated to do lists (which are usually too long to remember any of the items) I vent my boredom. I have entries in these journals, pages long, that just talk about what I want for dinner but don’t want because I can’t be bothered cooking it but oh I wonder if I could just cheat with the rice part and would it still taste ok? The worst was when I was on the ladypill for a while and my hormones had turned me into a starving rage zombie. I was hungry all the time, even after dinner, and my journal switched focus to ONLY be about food. It got weirdly erotic for a while when I started talking about whatever is on those salsa grain waves and how I wanted to wet my finger a little then slide it into the corner of the bag… real slow.

The document hits 100 or so pages, and all of a sudden a sunny day hits, and I start a new one. I now have ten of these things, spanning about seven years and well over 150,000 words.

Wellington harbour is just ridiculously pretty.
Wellington harbour is just ridiculously pretty.

What’s my point? Well, sometimes I write this stuff down, look at it, and want to tell someone… and it feels a bit weird to show someone your diary for their opinion. On the other hand, it’s totally socially acceptable to say HEY GUYS I HAVE A BLOG READ IT. So, here we are. Welcome.

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