It’s probably been a decade since I last tried to keep a diary. I tried to find a platform that reminded me of some of the simple, more obscure old school sites I used to write on. I settled on this one last night.
I’ve been trying to start do things again. A journal seemed like a good place to start. I want to take a grammar class this fall, but it might be too expensive to do that near the holidays. We’ll see. It’d probably make my diary more readable since I really have no clue what’s correct. I have some other little plans, but it’s all a bit up in the air.
Husband is moving to more normal work hours soon. I think it’ll be a good chance to get a little bit more routine and structure back in my life. It’s funny how when you’ve been abused and/or sick (be it mental, physical, or some combination) you just kind of go on. But when you start getting better, you don’t really know how to cope with being well. I don’t know what to do with myself anymore. I’m not used to possibility. I feel like I’m throwing spaghetti at the wall.
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