My Journal

Alicia asked me a while ago if I would consider writing down some stuff. Just journaling, or writing down memories, anything that they would have after I've gone to my final resting place, to be able to see my handwriting and see some of my thoughts.

I said okay. I have tried to keep a journal many different times through the years and I just can't stand the thought of somebody reading my personal thoughts. I always write a few days then I read it and can't stand the thought of somebody reading it and hating me, or feeling sorry for me, or some such nonsense.  Okay, so I won't write personal. They won't really know the real me with my real thoughts because I can't stand for anybody to know the real me. They would hate me. 

So since the beginning of February, I have been trying to write in a journal. I did pretty good for a few days, then I forgot. I have to have it right in front of me to remember it. Ugh. Well, I haven't written in it for about two weeks. I think of it, then think I will do it later, and never do. And here I sit, writing in this blog instead of my journal. They would know me better if they read my blogs, but they don't read this, and that is okay too. I have 2-3 other blogs connected to this profile that are slightly interesting to me. Memories from my life. I like it. Nobody wants to read an old woman's thoughts. They are all young and living fulfilling lives without sitting around reading a bunch of drivel I have written.

I am tired. I am ready to go. I can't make myself go. I have to stay my appointed time.