Another though just occured to me...perhaps I should putting more of myself into the journal. I mean, more than what I do with my day or what goes on currently. A bit of my past may not be a bad idea. It is, after all, a part of who I am...and the reasons I became *how* I am. The past is something I look at, sometimes through rose tinted glasses, and sometimes with a sigh. I try not to regret anything, and for the most part, I don't. I like to think that I've taken the lessons well and learned from them, even if a few of them were pretty harsh. I've had a good life, and most of it seems to have disappeared from memory into that nameless, shiftless fog that seems to cloud my mind most of the time. I have entire years that I just simply don't remember. *shrugs faintly* But, I do have other memories...and I have memories that I'm not entirely sure are memories. They seem real, but I'm not entirely sure they happened...I have a very vivid imagination, and if it was something I thought about often, pictured often.....its possible the line of imagined and real blurred enough that I'm no longer able to tell. That sounds incredibly bad...and like I lie compulsively or so much so that I don't know what's truth anymore, which isn't it. I tend to exaggerate sometimes, but I don't lie...I have no reason to, really. I may give things a different slant than they had the last time I told the story...but, at the moment, that's how I remembered it. High school, for example, will sometimes be remembered as a good place...other times just a place I spent 4 long years trying to pry myself away from people...and yet other times, just a place I'd rather not think about. *shrug* Well, judging by my clock and rapidly rambling thoughts, I'd better get my scruffy ass off the work computer and head to the car, I think my carpool person is almost ready to go.