Four more books. I don't know why I do it. I already have a stack at home and I am currently engrossed in "The Artist's Way" by Julia Cameron. But I have to make trips to the library as part of my "day job" and I can't resist coming away with something more each time. So, now added to my list of things to read are two more books by Anne Tyler as well as a book about the author, a book by John Dufresne and another one by Anne Lamott, "Crooked Little Heart. I am a sucker for contemporary female authors and I love to read about *them* in addition to their works. So, now I have all the more to add to my collection and stress my "Itty Bitty Booklight", without which, my marriage would have been over long ago.
I have noticed that I seem incapable at this point of making an entry on a daily basis in this journal. So far I am on an every-other-day schedule. I can't image why. I used to be so "religious" about writing in my old handwritten one. Perhaps it will get better with time and practice. I still find it a chore to up-load and then make the necessary revisions in the pages so the links will all work. I belong to an e-mail list (another one of my passions) for on-line journal writers and am amazed at the literacy of these folks when it comes to computer-ease; I just keep watching and learning. I guess, like anything, efficiency comes with practice.
I woke up early this morning and went out on to the porch to smoke (my husband quit a week ago-I am so proud of him!) and found myself furiously transcribing the previous night's dream while it was still fresh in my head and heart. I am sure there was no significance to the memory, but it seemed terribly important I record it for some reason. I think, since yesterday had been particularly difficult, (I battle with depression and have done so since I was 10 years old) I felt that if I began writing down the dreams that came after those types of days, the dark days, it might help me to eliminate or diminish or at the very least, predict my mood swings. (My husband would be so grateful if this could be accomplished!)
I do not believe what just happened. I was getting ready to launch off on this wonderful revelation that I had made regarding our past and how it effects our future, information I had culled by the way from a wonderful video on Zen when, much to my horror, I discovered that the autosave feature on my computer here at work was dutifully saving this journal file into the "shared folder" that one of my bosses and I use to transmit documents back and forth for editing. Oyyyy. So I had to log off, go on a "search and destroy" mission for any other alias-type saved files, and then log on to finish, because I am not sure this disc will work on my home computer (apples to oranges, if you get my drift.) Nothing should be this complicated! I guess this teaches me to do this at work!
Now I am totally out of the mood to do anything but obsess. Now that makes so much sense, doesn't it? I put a journal on-line so the whole world can see it and now I am sitting here shaking in my heels about whether a "ghost" copy of the thing is floating around in my office's computer network. Maybe the anxiety is because I don't think anyone out there will find these pages let alone read them. I really must think this thing out a little more!
Journi
