I’m writing this after my first day of school. Third year of university to be exact.
It wasn’t an eventful day. I had two classes. I’m glad it’s over.
I didn’t feel as nervous or worried this year. In fact, I very much look forward to learning in a classroom setting again.
Here’s an abridged version of my day:
I woke around six. Then I willed myself to fall back asleep.
I got out of bed after 8:30. I ate, read, and exercised. Then I left the house.
I took a bus and then the subway to get downtown. I wrote poems on the way there. I’m writing this post on the way back.
I had two classes back to back. Both related to media. During the short time I had after the first class, I ate a late lunch.
I realize this is boring. Nothing exciting happened. I’m not that interesting of a personto begin with.
I plan to stretch and dance soon after I get home.
My goal for tonight is to read more. I only had time for one short chapter in the morning.
I’m also going to edit a blog post and publish it before midnight. I have about a thousand drafts. I doubt I’ll ever let that number get down to zero.
I love journaling before bed. I enjoy reflecting upon the day.
Isn’t my life so much fun to read about?
I do the same things every 24 hours, which means I won’t be recounting my day anytime soon. I wouldn’t bore you like that. Instead, I’ll bore you with my opinions about anything and everything.
Sometimes I wonder whether I should publish the personal posts I write. There are tons among those one thousand drafts. There’s an annoying voice in my head that says no one cares. But I care, which is what matters.
More often than not, I write these posts for myself.
Hopefully, you’re able to take something away from them.