Dear Diary,
2/24/25
I worked 8 hours today at a job entirely unrelated to my writing. But, during my lunch break, I was thinking of Perpetual Girlhood, and found a scrap of paper on which to write my ideas.
Since I am working more now, I have less time to write. But I need to work in order to live and, thus, in order to write–even if there is only a small amount of time left for such a task.
So, I thought, Why not write a daily diary entry on my blog? It seemed–and still seems–like a solid idea in which nothing could go wrong. In fact, it would be a good way to record snippets of my life for later perusal. It would also guarantee I’d be writing on a daily basis–no matter how short the content–since finding time to write has been harder as of late.
When I made it home today, though, I just couldn’t find the energy to convert my diary from a concept to a physical entity. (Well, as physical as a digital format can be.) So, hours went by, and I created nothing.
I went on a walk, cooked dinner, and danced in the kitchen. But I didn’t open my laptop until it was nearing time for me to go to bed. (I should be in bed now, but I am writing this.)
So, I got online, and saw that someone had left a generous donation for the maintenance and betterment of Perpetual Girlhood. I was shocked and touched and, finally, re-inspired. My writing is worth something. It’s easy to forget that people other than myself read my work. Most times I feel like I am the only person in the world seeing my words on a screen. But that’s not true.
So, while this is a ramble, it is also the start of something new. On this page, I plan to add a new entry every day that I possibly can. The entries will most likely be brief, but they will be an honest glimpse into the life of an ordinary girl. ♡
2/25/25
It was another 8-hour work day, but my morning commute was divine. Everything was brown. So brown. Fields after fields of dirt and the remains of last year’s corn stalks. It was such a barren landscape. Miles of desolation. All the snow had melted yesterday. After weeks of seeing a white layer covering everything, the fields now looked as if a fire had swept through and eaten everything of vibrancy.
But, this morning, it was so brown. And so beautiful.
The sun was hitting everything in such a way that the dull brown colors had acquired their own tone of gold. And, with living in a rural area, there were few houses to break up the landscape. It’s just brown field after brown field after brown field. But it was glorious.
It puts summertime greens to shame in the sense that it is not the only beautiful season, no matter what June, July, and August try to make us think. There is not one kind of beauty. Everyone has their own opinion, certainly, but I believe if you truly love nature, in and of itself, you would find beauty outside every single day, no matter the time or location. You’d find beauty because of how changing nature is, how impermanent.
Most people overlook mundane beauty–not that nature could ever be considered mundane–and I don’t want to be “most people” in this situation.
It is also kind of funny because my whole outfit–my sweater, my coat–was made of different shades of brown. I mean, my skirt was black, but that is (kind of) the absence of color. So, if we don’t count my skirt, the entirety of me was covered in shades of brown.
Even though I was making these observations in a car made by the modern hand of man, I truly felt to be one with the landscape I was driving through. This sense of connectedness existed even though I was not walking through the fields or talking to a leafless tree. It was just a mindset in which I couldn’t help remembering that we are made of the same stuff. And I know we are, biologically, but this was different.
It was like I woke up this morning, and the world woke up with me. We were both one and the same.
I don’t know. Maybe that feeling can only last for a day or more. Or maybe only ten minutes. Maybe it must come and go in spurts, so my appreciation is never dulled. But I want that feeling to revisit me forever.
2/26/25
Today was very similar to the past two days, minus the dancing and extreme feelings of interconnectedness.
My late afternoon and evening, after I returned home, was spent entirely with people I care about. It was nothing more than a home-cooked meal and a game of Balderdash (it was my first time playing, but I won), but it is this kind of evening that we should all implement more of in our lives.
Simple pleasures amongst the company of other human beings will always bring calmness and contentment.
2/27/25
It’s his birthday tomorrow, so I made a cheesecake today. (It’s better when it can set up in the fridge overnight.)
I baked it in a dish that belonged to my grandmother. I think they look beautiful together.
2/28/25
We ate at a semi-fancy restaurant tonight. The building has been around since 1762. Because of its many centuries served as a fort, trading post, tavern, and inn, the building is said to be haunted.
I don’t believe in ghosts, but their food is wonderful.
After dinner, we ate the cheesecake drizzled with chocolate sauce at his house. A nice, calm celebration between two.
3/1/25
Game night with some family. I ate too many brownies to try and make up for the absence of his arms around me.
3/2/25
Stuff went on. Family, friends, food. Not good or bad. I just can’t psych myself up to write about it.
Tomorrow, I will pose as a creative goddess again.
3/4/25
How quickly inspiration dwindles. The days feel the same, and hot tea becomes the only form of comfort. Something to look forward to when arriving home. Something to help decompress.
It is hard to be creative when many of your daylight hours are spent catering to the needs of others. There becomes little time for introspection, rumination.
Maybe the coming warm weather will change things. The days will be longer and feel warmer, and I’ll be more content with who I am and where I am in life.
3/6/25
Nothing new these past two days. However, after rereading my last entry, I must add that “catering to the needs of others” is not the most draining thing. It is probably tied with small talk and fake smiles.
It’s not at all that the people I am in contact with aren’t genuinely kind people. It’s simply that I don’t have the sort of relationship with them that makes conversation a comfortable thing. But I must smile and contribute something in the form of spoken words because, in the end, I still care about making a good impression.
If we could all just go about our business as usual without feeling pressured to make friendly but shallow remarks, we’d all be better off. We’d be less stressed and have more time for the important things.
3/9/25
It has been a good couple of days. I’ve had a lot of time spent with him.
My lower back was hurting yesterday from two consecutive days standing stagnantly, 7 hours each day. But I feel much better now.
It is mid-afternoon as I write, and we will go on a walk soon. There is a heavy breeze and the air is cold, but the sun is shining. We are blessed with scattered Botticelli clouds
3/11/25
It was a beautiful day. He and I walked two miles in the sunshine and did yard work after I returned home.
(And my mother made a delicious ham pot pie, though, I must admit, I could not psych myself up to eat the ham itself.)
As the sun fell, we sat on his little, front porch and listed to the sound of the neighborhood taking full advantage of this unnaturally warm, March day. The sound of the children’s joyful yelling was far enough away to be cozy rather than grating.
Our conversation was warm, and I could not get close enough to him.
It is strange how a nice day can make everything–even love–more precious than it had been the day before. Everything–the mountains, the grass, the air, him–glowed with an inner light. It was something more than just the reflection of the sun; it was a true appearance of the strongest form of life.
3/12/25
I cried today, but I don’t know why.
For all that I felt, I might have been told the sun would never rise again and it’d be the last day I’d ever feel loved.
3/15/25
It has been a busy couple of days, a busy week. I feel like I’ve barely been home.
It is Saturday, and this afternoon is the first I’ve been able to relax. It is still strange how stillness is the best time for creativity. I now have a new idea for a short story about the movement of time.
3/17/25
Sick but still working. Nevertheless, my spirits are high. I am just lacking the time to express my creativity in the form of written word.
3/23/25
I think this diary has become a place for me to log all of my excuses as to why I have not been creative or active on this blog.
It is not a good habit, but I am going to do it again today anyways.
In my defense, I am working a lot at a job that is still fairly new to me. In addition, I have been sick all week. I am only just now getting back to normal. Also, he was gone for two days.
The creativity simply wasn’t flowing. It was nonexistent.
Good news, however: I have written and posted to Perpetual Girlhood today.
I’m starting to think there is no such thing as being “too sappy,” is brief but it is an honest reflection on who I have seen myself becoming and who I want to be. It is a piece of light that coincides perfectly with the spring equinox. ♡
3/34/25
I was away from home today and expected to have some downtime of which I would fill with reading. So, I brought a newly acquired book that I’ve been excited to read, The Devil and Miss Prym, part of Paulo Coelho’s And on the Seventh Day three-book series.
But, to my great disappointment. The Devil and Miss Prym is the last book in the series. The author’s note revealed this to me, though, when I had previously sought information on the novels’ chronology, the internet said you could read them in any order. Which, I guess, is always true of any book series, but I wanted to obey Coelho and read them correctly.
So, I sat with nothing to occupy my mind.
For a while, I was silent with my thoughts, but you can only stare into space–in a public place–for so long without drawing suspicion or concern.
In this way, and in this moment, I figured I could take to poetry: the memorization and recitation of my favorite piece, as well as the composition of my own. (Reciting lengthy poems is a cool party trick, in my opinion.)
But, without reading or writing, I wondered: how else can a person be creative in a time like this where this is little to no medium with which to express themselves?
3/26/25
The day started with such a beautiful morning. It made me sad to be inside most of the day, even if it was only 40 degrees. I convinced myself, during my short commute, that if I were able to spend as little as one interrupted hour outside, I would not feel the cold. I would be warmed by a peace and love from within my heart, extended towards all of earth, the dirt, the mountains, the toads.
It also made me realize, that if I knew when my last day of life was going to be, I’d spend the entirety of it out of doors.
It was a glorious morning, lit from a bit of heaven shining through a hole in the sky.
3/28/25
It has been a wonderful day: making a friend, a free parfait, a bit of time spent outside, being called pretty by someone I barely know, and dinner with him.
I am glad each day is different. It makes the joy of today even stronger. I hope to always remember and savor times like these.
3/30/25
Why does she have to have to be his “baggage?”
3/31/35
I know there are plenty of people who talk about me–in not so good ways–but no one has directly confronted me. Thus, I must strive to not let them bother me.
No matter how harshly they judge my decisions, it is still my life–my one and only. I can only do what brings me joy and a fervor for more days on this earth.
4/4/25
Thought: It is strange how, each year, white and pink flowering trees astound us all with their beauty. It is as if, from one year to the next, we forget their existence. In any season but spring, if we were to see a five-year-old draw a tree with pink leaves, we’d think it looked make-believe. How quickly we forget that the colors of nature are more than just greens and browns.
Past few days: work, not feeling well, dinner with friends and family.
Today: feeling good, productive day at home, dinner with him, walk to an ice cream shop after, and sitting down on a bench in historic downtown. ♡
4/10/25
I don’t know what to write. Life is happy but sad, peaceful but tedious. Some days, I am filled with joy. Others, I hope and pray for change.
4/12/25
I worked four hours, washed my bedding, planted asparagus, repotted cantaloupe, baked avocado brownie bites, and watched Dead Poets Society with him.
But it just felt like a day. Feeling indifferent is not nice, but I don’t know how to change.
Maybe I am a bit sleep-deprived.
4/14/25
An eye appointment, errands with him, free mirror from the side of the road, and lunch at a diner.
Tom and Joe’s: cute and cozy interior, but, from the outside, a slightly-abandoned-looking building. We both ordered breakfast.
A warm but windy walk, a view of lightning from the porch, a chocolate malt shake.
He is beautiful and kind.
4/21/25
I think melatonin triggers my migraines. I took it a few times this week–even though I never do any other time–and woke up in the middle of the night–two different nights–with a sharp pain in my head. I was awake for hours and lost all of my stomach’s contents. Fun.
Otherwise, I’ve been getting some sun and taking my walks with him.
I think of writing every day but have been doing very little of it recently. I remind myself of the concept that says creative people are like lions: we have our creative spurts and bursts of energy that we must take full advantage of, but the quiet moments that turn into weeks are essential for rest and reflection. Both phases are necessary for creation, and I cannot feel guilty for resting now.
4/28/25
Life has been nice and calm recently. I’ve been working a lot, but nothing exciting has happened. It’s a good thing, a period in which my mind is calm enough to feel connected to the landscape as it becomes green and beautiful with approaching summer.
Otherwise, this blog has been receiving as many as 20 spam comments a day, all with suspicious links embedded. For some reason, being bombarded with comments like these is discouraging. I think it is because I get excited to interact with a Perpetual Girlhood reader only to find the person interacting doesn’t care, they have only malicious intents.
4/30/25
Today included two leisurely walks, time spent laying in the sun, my first bicycle ride of the year, and then a chocolate malt after. It was such a lovely day.
But what were Native Americans doing during the time of Jesus?
5/1/25
I saw two dead squirrels on the road today, so close to each other. They were either both reckless romantics, or the second one was dumb enough to want something the first had found and experienced without him: death.
I prefer the former.
5/4/25
Beautiful things: the sun, the breeze, the plants, human connection, animals, loving, and being loved.
5/11/25
There has been joy, love, and peace–the coveted three emotions and mental states–but there has also been tears. Sadness is an awful feeling while it’s with you, but a good cry truly does have cleansing power.
Anyways, after an uncertain morning, I had a wonderful day. There is beauty in work and movement: trimming lilacs, cutting forsythia, taking walks, throwing the frisbee. These are all simple, satisfying functions that we can regularly partake in for the rest of our lives. That does make life–and growing older–seem like a more pleasant experience. Nothing is ever as scary as it seems in one’s mind.
5/14/25
I almost don’t know how to spend a full day at home anymore. I am restless, and I second guess everything I do.
I used to spend the majority of my time in the confines of my bedroom, writing, creating in some capacity at most every moment. That is still what I long to do, but I have gotten out of habit, routine.
I want the act of creation to come to me as easily as breathing. Hopefully, this summer will be a time for that: endless poetry, short stories, and rambling walks.
5/16/25
A local group held a fundraiser that I went to. You filled a garbage bag full of clothes for $5. It was a small thing, but I was looking forward to it. I didn’t get anything great, but it was a good practice in self-discipline and solitude. It takes some courage–for me at least–to be out among people who perceive me by myself without another person to shield me.
While there, I saw a lot of people I semi-know. A lady even hugged me. While I definitely was awkward, I was able to navigate the small talk and unexpected meetings. And the thing is… it really was not bad at all.
I need to stop being scared of people.
5/19/25
…
5/20/25
I have so much I want to do, to accomplish, and to create. It’s all I think about.
But all this thought leaves me immobilized.
6/12/25
A restless summer.
It’s beautiful and warm, and I don’t know what to do with myself. Every second spent inside feels like a second wasted. Yet, I am indoors more than not.
I want to write, I want to find a new job, I want to read every book, but I sit inside and accomplish little to nothing.
I want to be lay outside in the grass for a few hours, but there are too many eyes in this rural town.
6/21/25
I’m finally working on a piece of creative fiction that I am excited about. It will be short–I already have 1,000 words–but I think it will be something that I’ll be proud to submit to publications.
On the other hand, I am stressed because of personal matters. On top of that, I feel as awkward and flustered as ever. Today, for example, I was in the grocery store for milk and saw three people I knew relatively well. The one girl made a point to turn around and wave to me, and I responded, but I fear I was not friendly enough and seemed distracted. I don’t want to be thought of as rude when I normally try my hardest to be as kind as possible. But, alas, I was overthinking and am still overthinking. It was a small moment, but I wish I could go back and try again. Human interaction is everything. The connections you have and the perception people have of you really do affect everything in your life.
Anyways, it happened, and I know it was no big deal, but I hope a night of sleep with calm my overworked mind.
7/6/25
I have this condition where I cannot speak or write words that I find highly un-pretty.
Just today, I heard the words “hubby,” “preggers,” and a word relating to a human bodily function that made me cringe. These are just a few of the words that I detest and cannot stand to hear spoken in my vicinity, but there is an incredibly long list of which I will never use. I will utilize all modes of circumlocution in order to convey myself without saying “earwax” or something as unlovely as that.
Otherwise, I do love my family. A picnic this weekend reminded me of that.
7/8/25
You don’t need to write or create something about every idea that goes through your mind.
This is something I’m trying to teach myself. I waste way too much time on projects that I don’t have the inspiration for. When I have an idea that I believe to be in some way original, I write it down and worry about how to proceed. It is stressful and–I’m sorry to say–pointless. I end up spending hours creating something I’m not proud of. It’s stupid.
Quite simply, if you no longer are intrigued by an idea for a project, let it go. Don’t force it. It’s never worth it.
7/17/25
I’ve been depressed. But tomorrow will be a better day.
7/23/25
I’ve been thinking about death again. The death of loved ones, the death of pets, the death of me, and how I dread it all.
There are many well-known quotes on the matter, “I will endure a lifetime of missing you for the privilege of loving you,” being one of many. And, as all well-regarded quotes should, they do bring comfort. They justify my willful decision to love even when–in all probability–I’ll most likely be alive longer without him than I will be with him. Okay. So I used him. I’m giving myself away. But so what?
Anyways, in the summer, when I’m working less, I feel insecure and unmotivated since I am being compared to one of my sisters who works multiple jobs. She is choosing to fill most all of her hours with work. I do not choose that, but I can’t even make the most of the free time I do have because she is there as the model, hardworking daughter.
Life is life, and I care too much.
7/28/25
I’ve never felt this way before, but I think I need a friend or two. I long for that sort of simple relationship in my life. But how do I go about finding any?
7/29/25
Thank you, God, that life is feeling a bit happier. Thank you for him and that I get to be loved. Thank for giving me wonderful parents. Thank you that I am becoming closer to my sister.
And, God, I pray for the health and happiness of those I love. Use me to be a source of happiness to them. And I ask that you guide and direct me in my life: my career, my relationships, and all other matters.
Thank you for the beauty and the good in this world. And please help me to notice it, always.
Amen.
8/3/25
A wonderfully calm Sunday.
High of 78° and a sunny sky made even more beautiful by the stray clouds.
We had an outdoor service this morning. It felt very communal and cozy.
Then he and I went to the flight memorial and museum. Absolutely heartbreaking, but the selflessness that some people possessed was heartwarming. We walked 1.4 miles around the site of the crash, surrounded by wildflowers and butterflies.
On the way back, we stopped at a large, old cemetery with a two-storey, log church built in 1806. While there, I saw some of the most beautiful tombstones I’ve ever seen.
The we picked up some sandwiches at OIP. We ate in a park and became surrounded by 15 new friends: ducks. They were all so sweet, and he even pet one. There were a few fish in the river and many dragonflies above. But I only saw those of blue and green.
Home sweet home. Then: a bicycle ride, rummy, and a dance party to “Float On.”
I’m trying to record each major event so I don’t forget just how beautiful the day was.
8/5/25
I talked to a truck driver in line at a Chinese buffet today. He was filling a takeout container with chicken and broccoli to eat on the road.
He was nice.
I often enjoy conversations with strangers.
8/8/25
This evening was dreamy. When I read this entry back, I probably won’t remember how I felt a few hours ago, how I still feel.
5pm started with a huge indoor yard sale at a Catholic school that I had been looking forward to all week. It was packed full of people and things. I got a swan planter, a little shelf, a silver ring holder, lace curtains, and a vintage evening bag. Good finds.
From there, we went to an antique car show in a historic part of town. It was the largest I had ever seen. They had a large section of the street blocked off for the cars, as well as multiple side streets stemming from the first. In the middle of it all, was a band of older men and one woman singing oldies. They were called “The (something) Flashbacks.” (I couldn’t see the whole banner.) They had a large audience, but, most of all, their performance moved people to dance. It was so, so lovely. I was feeling teary-eyed just watching the whole, sweet scene. We sat on the curb, watched, and swayed to the music–or, really, the atmosphere. All of the happiness flowing from the people there.
It was the perfect summer evening, exactly how I want to spend all of my time for the rest of my life. With him, doing this.
(Below is a short clip of the band and the dancers. It doesn’t do justice to how carefree and whimsical the whole event felt.)
8/13/25
Went camping this past weekend.
We slept in a tent next to a group of 20 Norwegians who played music and talked until 1:20am. Somehow, I wasn’t too terribly tired the next day.
We hiked 7 miles and swam in the woods.
Days like these seem to last forever until you finally make it home. From there, memories of the trip become hazy, almost like it never happened.
8/16/25
We toured a 19th-century Greek Revival mansion full of hand carved wood furniture, imported Italian marble, and a couch upon which the owner’s son died. It had three stories, a kitchen in the finished basement, and a cellar beneath that.
At home, we made apple crisp from the trees in his backyard.
Beauty is everywhere.
8/25/25
To sit in the shade while everything around me is made luminous by the sun…
8/28/25
Comments on my blog are rare, but I love the meaningful exchange I get to have with people when they do come. Thank you, Luke, for yours today.
Other things of note: I made apple crisp (again), I finished Post Office by Charles Bukowski (and did not particularly enjoy or appreciate his style), and I watched the bees and butterflies feed off the flowers I grew from seeds in the spring.
8/31/25
This butterfly visited again.
9/13/25
Every moment feels like a dream, but not in a joyous, whimsical sense. It’s more like reality never happens, and time just floats on.
Today, however, was broken up by a search for a phone along four lanes of traffic. It was dry, hot, and a never-ending walk. We found the phone along the median, or at least we found two pieces of it and its case.
It’s nearly dark by 8pm anymore, and that makes me sad.
10/20/25
I couldn’t bring myself to write a diary entry. I don’t know why, not really.
But I am still here.
10/23/25
I dreamed of a butterfly that turned into a cat. A kitten, actually. But first, a large butterfly. It is strange that any sense of logic exists in the dream world.
10/30/25
I think I mentioned before about often feeling like I’m floating. Well, I’ve discovered that, in my workplace, it’s worse: I don’t feel like I exist at all.
When I return home after those eight hours, memory of anything that happened during the day deserts me. I wasn’t living then. But when I’m home, I’m too (mentally) tired to live too.
But, as I’m writing this, I look out the window and see the Appalachian Mountains. They are unwavering and beautiful. I am reminded again how nothing really matters. I understand why people “escape to the mountains.” They surround you, intimidate you, but, ultimately, comfort you.
I am going tomorrow. I’ll travel two hours south and try to lose myself in the trees.
11/1/25
11/10/25
I saw a group of trees outside of the window by which I worked today. They stood in the distance, at the corner made by two fields. One was evergreen, the others were a full deciduous orange.
My eyes were drawn to them during my seven-hour work day. They seemed to me especially imposing. Unaffected and beautiful.
11/24/25
I pray to be guided towards the path(s) I’m meant to take: jobs, passions, relationships… But how can I be sure I am open and receptive to this guidance? How do I tell the difference between true higher callings and my own human urgings. God, help me. Please.
11/29/25
Thank you Lord for the privilege of lying in my warm, comfy bed while I have the inconvenience of a slight headache. Many people have such a hard go at life, and, somehow, I live in luxury like this.
12/10/25
Lately, I’ve been thinking too much about the future that I can’t enjoy the present. It’s hard to savor moments and people who I know will be gone long before me.
12/18/25
I think I’m getting out of the strange, depressing thought pattern I had been in. Maybe it was a winter depression while my body was adjusting to the new 25 degree weather.
Anyway, I’ve been working, doing my pilates, and trying to write. It’s hard when you also have to do laundry, cook dinner, worry about a retirement plan, and a hundred other little things. But that’s how it is for everyone, I know.
I thrifted a beautiful, floral brown midi-skirt today after a dentist appointment. I have “perfect teeth,” the hygenist said, but she still recommended hydroxyapatite toothpaste. I think I will try it.
A boring update, but at least I have written another entry. It’s nearing the end of the month, and this is only the second time I have written here.
12/24/25
I crave a life of beauty. When I close my eyes and think of the future, I picture the sun rising from behind the mountains, lighting up the veggies and flowers I have growing out back. I see the same sun streaming through the window, lighting up my writing materials as I sit at my desk. All around me, the world is beautiful. And, because I notice that beauty, I choose to believe that I am beautiful too–my mind is beautiful too. In my visions, this future never ends. I am always with the one I love, close by family, breathing crisp air, and planning the soup I will make for dinner.
1/8/26
I am doing both a lot and nothing.
I have no resolutions, but I have big dreams. But how to reach them?
I’ve scheduled a big girl doctor’s appointment, and I’ve renewed my driver’s license for the second time in my life. (Sitting in the DMV after another four years is a really sad way to mark the years as they go past, but so it is.)
I’ve been fluctuating from being content to having an irrepressible sadness for more.
I’m getting tired of my job–a job I never thought I wanted in the first place–but I am not financially secure enough to just drop everything and write. (That would be the dream I mentioned: writing and gardening and cooking, forever.)
But, good news: “And She Was” is being reprinted in Literally Stories. (It was originally published in Same Faces Collective.)
But, above all, I have people who love me.
1/16/26
I’ve had strange heart palpitations all day. I think it is from the peppermint and spearmint tea I’ve been taking with me to work every day this week–or at least I hope it can be attributed to that and, therefore, easily remedied.
But, then again, I’ve had such kind and loving interactions with humans these past few days–online and otherwise–that my heart could be overwhelmed by that.
Either way, both hot mint teas and kindness show that I am living a privileged life.
1/25/26
The 20 inches of snow did fall today. But it was light and peaceful.
It was nice knowing you, and everyone else, were stuck at home. I guess it was nice to have no expectations for the day ahead. In a way, it was like everything that did happen was special. It was special that we made a huge pot of soup, ate yesterday’s cookies, and played card games.
It was a long day in the nicest of ways.
It was simple, and it was beautiful.
1/30/26
Right now, it feels like the whole world is opening up for me.
Yesterday, I saw a message that said something like “in 36 hours from now, a job unasked for will come to you.” I knew it was a meaningless graphic made for social media, but I also wanted it to be true. Now, today, I have been made aware of three separate opportunities that align with my interests and skills. Don’t get me wrong, I already have a job that I am good at, but it is not as reliable as it used to be. And I’m also wondering, what are the chances I saw that message at a time when I was wanting and praying about a career change, and these opportunities presented themselves of their own accord? Was it really God choosing for me to see that message, at that moment, to give me hope and force me to consider the opportunities when they arose?
But now I need to decide which to pursue. All of them and see what happens? Let the one that’s meant for me be chosen by someone who knows better than me?
1/31/26
And now, today, I felt overwhelmed. And tired.
I couldn’t fall asleep last night, and, when I did, I dreamed of snakes. One was in bed, curled up beside me. I quickly grabbed it right behind the head, except… it wasn’t the head. It was the tail. And it wanted to strike. But then I woke up, still filled with fear of the snake beside me. I had to turn on my lamp to make sure there really wasn’t one under my covers.
I worked today. And, when I came home, I submitted one application.
But the thing that sticks out the most from today is the 86-year-old man we met at the Chinese buffet. It was 8pm, 7 degrees outside, and this man came in to eat. Alone. He was so kind. We talked for a few minutes, and I haven’t been able to get rid of the sadness that I feel for him, imagining how lonely his life might be.
But the sadness, the bittersweet feeling in my heart, makes me all the more grateful for the love that I have in my life. And my family. And all the things that get me out of bed each morning.
2/9/26
I felt funny today, like my brain was expanding, an outward pressure. I couldn’t sleep last night but still had to get up for an eight-hour work day.
2/13/26
It’s winter and I have gotten away from writing about nature. It is so much simpler when it is warm. It’s easier to appreciate the beauty when it is not 16 degrees and you can stand out in it.
2/18/26
The words of Bastille have described my life this winter: “I was left to my own devices / Many days fell away with nothing to show.”
I know I have accomplished some these past few months, but I thought I was ready for more than this. It’s not ambition; it’s me feeling all the pent up creativity that I haven’t figured out/been motivated enough to release. I have disappointed myself.
I am ready for the new growth of spring.
2/23/26
I was going to write and post an article called “Going Grey in Girlhood.” But, after thinking and thinking and thinking, I realized I can come to no conclusion nor pose any sufficient questions. Going grey is one of those indescribable feelings I have.
This is all I could write:
I’m in my early twenties, but, sometimes, I feel as if I should be sprouting grey hair.
I feel like I’ve lived a lifetime, like my time is to be shortly up. Like my time is running out.
Sometimes, I do wonder: what else is there to do or see? I have not, by any means, lived an extraordinarily exciting life, but I have forged a unique path for myself. (In my case, “unique” does not mean successful but rather uninfluenced by societal norms.) If you know me personally, you know I am a true nonconformist in a way that I may never reveal online. But that in itself has not been the thing to age me, nor has it been the fear of judgement that comes with it.
But, if not that, what?
2/25/26
Today, I cried about a cat I had 10 years ago. He had been a stray, small, black, and young. Then his back legs were broken when he got hit by a car.
I was the one to find him at six on a Sunday morning, crying and dragging himself to the porch. We had a neighbor put him out of his misery. I still feel so sad for him, thinking of his lonely, painful last moments of life.
3/8/26
57° today. We took our first biciyle ride (and short hike) of the season. It was lovely. We found steps down to the river. We rode amongst tree frogs that were loud enough to be called deafening–it’s only a slight hyberole. The landscape was still brown, but the sky was vibrant. A beautiful contrast.
We came across two birdhouses. There was not another human in sight, but the hand-painted blue birds are proof that another person loves this land and all that resides within it.
The only downfall: I found a tick on me, hours later. I will now dream that I am sharing a bed with thousands of little black insects. They may be nice guys, deep down, but they they frighten me.
3/11/26
This morning: orange clouds that were the color of flames, a full rainbow, then lightning that flashed in the darkening sky; a tornado watch.
The past few days: listening to a train whistle through the open car window, nice interactions, kind people, wondering if I properly convey my kind gratefulness back to them. I hope so.
Now: feeling bad because I did not make the most of a day off. I tried to write but could not think. I tried to read but could not focus. I tried to clean but lost motivation. I guess we all need these days, but that’s never comforting in the moment.
3/14/26
I have had lots of free time the last few days, but I’ve had zero motivation to write. And that makes me feel guilty. If I took advantage of these moments, I’d have a full novel written already. But I know the writing process isn’t that simple.
If only. I hope to be better tomorrow. I’m in a writing slump, and I don’t know how to proceed with the events of my book. I hope it will work itself out, and that divine inspiration will hit.
I want to have 10,000 words by the end of March. (I had about 5,000 to begin with.)