Can’t stop diarying

Handwritten page of a diary dated October 11, 1994

I stood outside watching my apartment go up in flames. Everything except what I was wearing and the stuff I grabbed on my way out — my billfold and the old photo album and my favorite pillow — and for some reason, my giant fluffy alpaca rug, which was idiotic because it slowed me down on the emergency stairway. Half an hour later I remembered my journal. Almost 10 years. 3,650 days. Ashes.

Then and there I decided I’d never journal again.

But, as anyone knows who’s ever tried to stop smoking, or drinking Dr Pepper, or watching TV — habits are hard to break.


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Published in: on September 1, 2010 at 4:30 am  Leave a Comment  

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