I began keeping a journal of sorts in 2014 when I was working as an administrative assistant at my alma mater. I was bored, and as is typical with me, boredom was the harbinger of creation. I set up a blog and simply started writing. I didn’t fancy myself an author, as I knew no one but me would likely be interested in my ramblings. Over the years, it has evolved into a way to look back at events magnificent and mundane, humorous and heart-wrenching, catty and cathartic. Though I highly doubt they will ever be nestled between two glossy covers and adorning shelves of bookstores everywhere, they are still useful, at least to me. Perhaps someday they will provide someone who was close to me with the personal insight I couldn’t muster the confidence to convey–but only if they wish to read it; I believe forcing someone to read another’s writings from beyond the grave, especially if one was close to the person, is akin to haunting them. 

I have decided to act, however, as if this will be published, even if only in my imagination, and I’ve decided to call this intro, “Funny, Isn’t It?” because that’s what I keep writing in these journal entries and even saying in my conversations with people. The frequency increases with my age as do the moments of nostalgia that nearly bring me to my knees. “They don’t make ’em like they used to,” “Back in the day,” and “Boy, I really miss…” are coming out of my mouth with alarming regularity, cementing my theory that I have indeed become my parents.

In the spirit of Anne Rivers Siddons’ John Chancellor Makes Me Cry, I too have decided to let the past entries speak for themselves. I was a different person when I began writing than I am now, and my insights and opinions then were from a woman whose life was markedly different. There is no need to edit anything because to do so would be misleading.

I hope that whoever reads this gains some insight into this middle-aged Midwesterner’s existence; and at least appreciates the effort to make a mark, however small, on the world.

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