I just realized how many journals I really have saved and how much sifting I am going to have to do to really get anything of use to distill itself into something that has some sort of point. Oh how realizing the point is actually finding one sucks major noogies.
ACCEPTING THE SANDWICH: Moments of harsh reality can be short: so bite hard, chew and swallow. I talk about everything from marriage to kids and pretty much whatever life flings my way. The rebel in me still wants to wish in one hand. The Realist makes me wash my hands and brush profusely.
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