Walmart and Journals

A terribly dangerous place... Walmart. It is full of wonderful things this time of year for teachers. And I am especially vulnerable because I have an awful affection for paper, blank books, pens, notebooks, and stickers. It must be a family trait because as we moved my sister into her new apartment, we discovered that she has a shelf almost entirely of journals. Some are full others are empty. I have a small rubbermaid bin of my full journals. I've been writing in journals since I was six. I haven't always been very faithful, but a good large portion of my life is well documented from inside my mixed up mind. It isn't a very balanced perspective, I'm sure, because I tend to write more when I am very frustrate, mad, or upset. And sometimes more when I'm very happy. But all that in between time (which is where I am most often) ends up a little more sparsely covered in the annals of my life. Now I just have to decide which blank book I'm going to take with me to the ME in case I fill up the one I am using now.