I always thought I diarized as a kid because I had no brothers or sisters and, as my faith in God diminished, I found solace in writing to "Dear Diary"instead of "Our Father." And whilst a teen, with mother in an institution and Dad only home to asleep, I diarized endlessly. All the while, I knew I was the writer with no reader and I often wondered why I did it—as I do now.
Here is a screenshot of a typical month for me in 2012.
I have a lot of time to fill, especially when I am not teaching. I fill a lot of it with walking but right now that is out because when I walk, I carry a lot of stuff: My camera, something to drink, glasses and sunglasses, sunblock, a hat, my wallet, something to read and often a pull-over or some other clothing. I carry it all in a backpack and right now, due to something having gone wrong in the centre of my back, I cannot bear having weight on back.
So back to the physio. And lucky me, I get to describe everything with barely a voice. Two weeks to go until the Voice Clinic. I am miserable with two things wrong. I stay inside, avoiding contact and movement. Thank God for books. And for a diary in which to complain. Now I feel better. Thank you "Dear Diary."
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