I can tell the months have been busy: 168 pages in my journal, and this small ringbound edition lasted from early August through October. At other times in my life I've filled a volume per month, but much of my writing happens at the keyboard, these days, and much of my writing time aims toward revision.
When I reach the end of one journal, I draw a nameplate on the next edition, and leave a page for to-dos. Then I cull the filled journal for stuff worth follow-up. Here's a note from early August:
Inside my glorious $10 purse (my graduation purse, the basket purse from Floating Lotus), the lining is filled with loose glitter from a birthday invitation for my daughter. As I dig for change for the parking meter, my fingers sparkle. A quick shake of my hair and glitter rains. In the mirror, a stubborn speck of glitter shines from my the arch of my eyebrow.
At Starbucks today escaping THEM and their rambling summer schedules, their bickering, their need. Ran into Matt-who-lives-at-Starbucks and I told him no one has called about this teaching job at the college. Matt teaches the class I want, and he tells me I'd be perfect for it. I know. Why don't they call? I hope I haven't killed off my chances with enthusiasm.
Glitter on my eyeglass case. Glitter on my pen. They need to call me NOW.
Blessed. The worry-scowl lifts a moment with each sparkle.
Reading Brothers Karamozov today.