My speech professor told us that if we choose to write our thoughts and feelings down, the journal should merely be an outlet, and never be revisited. If we write at the height of passion, there may be things scribbled on the paper that are only half-truth. She suggested that we should burn or toss whatever we write.

I have to disagree with her there. Writing is a form of relaxation for me, and I do enjoy rereading my entries. Sometimes they serve as a reminder of the things I am grateful for, and other times they show me that I am human, and I have my failings and less-than-fabulous-moods.

This morning, for example, I woke up in a foul mood. I seriously considered breaking up with David, I didn’t want to get out of bed, and I contemplated simply not showing up to my own birthday party.

Then I started reading. I’ve read backward, through the entire terrible month of October, to the carefree summer days of August.

I am a very lucky person. My friends are awesome.

David really loves me a lot, as he likes to say it.

I am not an idiot. I know I will be successful wherever I put my skills to use.

What are the good things about me? Well! Let’s blow some air up my own ass, shall we?

I am:
— loyal to my friends and family.
— smart for a gal who went to a terrible public school.
— a fine writer, though I could be much better if I would just relax a bit.
— genuinely nice.
— considerate of others’ feelings, and if I’ve hurt someone in any way, I’d like to know about it so I can remedy it.
— open to new things; people or places, foods or drinks.
— a bit insane, but you have to be in order to simply survive.
— a damn good… editor or designer? I don’t know which. I know I perform my duties well, though I always believe I can do so much better.
— introspective. I like to be aware of myself, my feelings and beliefs. I want to fully flesh out the person I am.
— firm. Fine, I’m stubborn. I think this is a good thing when applied to my morals and such. I am not wishy-washy.
— decisive, though lately not so much since I’ve been feeling rather poorly.
— moderately attractive? My physical attributes are not things I prefer to expound on. 😛
— a tad weird. But once again, you have to be sometimes, just to get by.
— caring, sometimes to the point that I put myself at risk for others. I feel awful when people I care about are going through difficult trials.
— helpful. If asked, I will do.

I think that’s enough for now. I’m beginning to grow uncomfortable.

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