So, journal. Wow. It's been a while, huh? I read these old entries and I can hardly remember the girl who wrote them. She seems so long-gone. I'm sure she would be just as shocked by her future self, as I am by my past. She would probably, in fact, be appalled, or at the very least disappointed.
Which is definitely not to say that I am disappointed. Do I have regrets? Obviously. But they are small ones. I wish I had not dropped out of school. Again. I wish I had worked harder. I wish I had a job. I wish I had more money. I wish I had kept closer to old friends. I wish my previous unbelievably-stupid life choices had not led to a pregnancy difficult enough to force me out of work at the farm. (Oh, that's right, journal--I got a job at a farm, with a very talented dressage trainer, back in August--but that's over as of March). I wish I had spent my money more practically in the past, and I hope I have the willpower to fulfill that wish in the future. I wish I had never quit riding. I wish I had never quit writing. I wish I would stop quitting everything.
But, after all, if wishes were fishes...
And there are a great many things to be thankful for, a great many moments in this last year that I definitely do not regret. Like meeting my future husband, and moving in with him--and being pregnant with our child. That latter one is not ideal--could definitely have come at a better time--but it's welcome nonetheless.
And anyway, there are definite optimistic overtones to this whole thing. Pregnancy gave me an excuse to take a much-needed vacation, for one thing. Working 50-60 hours a week at a job with serious physical demands was really beginning to wear me out. Pregnancy also goaded me into coming back to you, journal. Now that I'm not dog-tired at the end of every day--now that something interesting is going on in my life--I feel like there might actually be something worth saying again.
I guess we'll find out.
- the syntax:nonfiction
- the ghostly clothes of:"Gotta Cheer Up" Cotton Jones