Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Me and Virginia Woolf
I read other people's diaries.
Now wait. Don't leave in a huff. Let me explain.
I wait until the diary has been published first. Which is usually not until the person has died. (I'd certainly prefer that my diary not be read by anyone else until I've died.)
Anyway, if you've ever read Virginia Woolf's diaries, you know that she included a lot of comments that were specifically written for her future self, "I wonder what future Virginia will think of this." (Clearly, she planned to re-read her diaries when she was much older. I can only conclude that her handwriting was better than mine.)
The point I'm coming around to is that I ran across a similar entry in the diary I wrote when I was 17. At the time, I wrote to my future self that it didn't matter if I got married and had children, it didn't matter if I stayed single and devoted myself to helping people. All the future paths that lay open to me were good, and I accepted whatever my future self chose to do with this life we shared.
My reaction to reading this was odd. I thought, "Well, who the hell are you to tell me that? Yes, it's all very nice of you to give me permission to end up where I am, but what business is it of yours? We're two totally different people. I'm not you. You certainly are not me, you little twit. And no, damn it, you're not fat!"
Goal of the month: Sigh. Yes yes yes still stolidly slogging steadily through the 30-day purge of Stuff.
Goal of the week: Out the door by 8 a.m.
Look, I'm not claiming a fail here. I blame God for the ice that covered the roads. I didn't want to set foot outdoors that early.
Exercise du jour: 200 Squats challenge, week 4
Done! Dang but those are getting harder.
Plus, walked 2 miles.
Plus, 20 minutes ellipticalling, which I would not have done if it hadn't been for the HBBC and my pathetic need to boost my points. It's making my life less pointless.
Holiday Bootie Buster Challenge:
Portrait of Virginia Woolf by Roger Fry.