I really wonder if everyone who keeps a journal, or diary actually writes everything they want to.

7:37am.  My first thought after a VERY restless night?  Go outside and get the papers!  Get the neighbors too, those fools probably don't even know how to read!  The neighbor to my right has moved out and the neighbor to my left leaves piles of newspapers until they eventually throw them out!  Well, no sense in that when I can use those coupons!  I open up one of the papers and JACKPOT!  Four inserts in one of them!  YES!  These are the things that make me happy which, in turn makes me motivated.  Laundry started and dishes started! Life is good.  Better than yesterday anyway.  Yesterday, I had so much anxiety that I actually went back to bed, no sleep, of course but was hoping to feel better.  Today I have almost no anxiety, but I can feel the beginnings of some painful legs.  Screw you fibromyalgia!  On a completely different note.  I really wonder if everyone who keeps a journal, or diary actually writes everything they want to.  I don't.  Ever since my very first little, purple, lockable diary at 11 years old, I have never wrote everything I wanted to.

  How liberating it would be if I could, but that worry that the wrong person would find my words and they might ruin my life freaks me out!  On that note, there are many, many thoughts stuck inside the file folders in my head.

Peace I'm out!