April 3, 1965
Last night I slept 13 hours in all. Today I dragged around and did nothing but watch television.
Marty's been accepted as an aide, too! We'll be together next summer. I'm so happy she's coming, too. I really wasn't too happy about it at first. I guess it's because I was a camper last year and I'd feel uncomfortable with the counselors I had last summer.
April 3, 1986
Dateline: Atlanta
Today I give my paper on playsuits. It will be such a delight to have it over. Then there’s the layette paper…time for a shower.
April 3, 1998
Sarah waxes shallow now. She suggests imaging other lives, but then wants to buy red leather cowboy boots for one of hers. Maybe one of the rules of “the authentic life” is to keep it to yourself! Maybe this is a hint that I do not want to be Sarah Ban Breathnach in my next life. In my next life I would major in English or Spanish. I would not run away from challenge. In my next life I would write in my journal more faithfully, even during the hard times. Especially during the hard times. In my next life I will write more letters, especially to Mom and Dad. In my next life I will accept Jim sooner. In my next life I will leave my kids alone to solve their own school problems. In my next life I would not buy a fixer-upper!!!
April 3, 2023
Apparently I am living my next life. Not completely. My desire to have majored in something else had to do with finding myself transferred from a textile department, where my expertise was useful, to an America Studies department. For most of the 90s, I described my situation as being in a shipwreck and washing up on an island where everyone spoke a different language. I am still risk averse. The other “next life” goals are pretty much on track with the last 25 years.
I not only journal faithfully now, but I have two: a planning journal (sort of an expanded Daytimer) and this one.
I am writing letters to a college friend I haven’t seen since 1971. With a fountain pen. On nice paper. Highly recommend.
I have accepted 98-99% of Jim’s habits and quirks. Except the One Which Shall Not Be Named. And I only mention that one to him once a month. It’s in my planner.
I stopped trying to solve my kids’ problems long ago, though not soon enough. I listen and support, but offer advice only when asked.
We sold the mostly fixed-up fixer-up three years ago and moved to a place there someone else gets to do all that shit.
I did buy a pair of western-style boots, and got a tattoo. Authenticity FTW!
Which wow?