Keeping A Journal.

I had a journal when I was in seventh grade. It had a cow on the front and was a bright green color. Each paragraph was scribbled in different colored gel pens, and was filled with my ten thousand crushes of middle school. No, really. I found said journal when I was in high school and literally every single paragraph was about which boys I liked, how good looking they were, and everything else a thirteen year old could mention about a boy.

I was so embarrassed, I threw it away in fear someone would find it. I didn't know that older me would WANT to find it. I really regret throwing my cow journal filled with middle school me in the trash. Although I'm sure I would still blush reading it, I love looking back and remembering. My parents saved a box of all of my old school projects, cards, stories, valentines, pictures... the list could go on. That box is one of my favorite things in my house. I could spend hours sifting through everything, and I wish that stupid journal was among the contents.

I decided to start a new journal, actually handwritten on paper, not just a blog. Keeping a journal seems like a small task, but in truth, I struggle with it. I didn't even write about my wedding day, or about being engaged. I'm sad about that, too.

My journal instead of a daily record, will rather be a weekly one. I figure I can spare a few minutes a week, and I'm sure fifty year old me will be thoroughly entertained. Now I know how much I regret not being diligent with keeping a journal, and throwing my only journal away, I'm much more determined to actually do it. One week down, here's to a million more.