I’m not supposed to be doing this. Writing in my diary, I mean.
Because Mum told me that I’m spending WAY too much time scribbling in it. But isn’t that why she asked Dad’s sister to buy it for me in the first place?? And I DO NOT spend a lot of time with my journal. Yeah, sure I flip through it a few times a day and doodle all around the borders and fill up the pages with my weird, illegible handwriting and…
OK, so maybe I do spend quite a while with it.
But isn’t that WHY Aunt Maribel bought it for me?? So that I can “open out to it” and “finally have someone to talk to who wouldn’t immediately tell everyone about my secrets”?? [Her words]
Basically, this is what has happened;
Aunt M gifted me something I never even wanted. Something that, if other people found out about, could mean the end of my life. Something that was so embarrassing, I even toyed with the idea of flushing it down [but the toilet would get clogged and then Mum would go out and buy me a new Diary anyway]. Something that also, in a way, made me look forward to. In other words, a diary.
[In Middle School language, that’s like saying she gave me the cooties. Only worse]
But is that enough?? NO, of COURSE not. Not only do I now have a book with “My Sweet Journal” plastered all over it [Seriously. What AM I, SIX??] but now I’m supposed to WRITE in it or I get PUNISHED. PUNISHED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So, being the extremely awesome daughter that I am, I decide to do it, but just to get Aunt Maribel out of my hair.
But is THIS ENOUGH???????? NOOOOOOOOOOO, it ISN’T. When I actually start WRITING in it [like they TOLD ME TO], they turn around, say, ‘You know what?? Maybe this was a bad idea from the start. Maybe we should have listened to COLOSSALLY BRILLIANT Taylor when she said that this was a stupid plan,’ and then GROUND me for LISTENING TO THEM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
You never win.