I’m not really sure why I’m doing this. What I am sure of is that just about every night you ask me if I did it. Usually, my first instinct is to lie to you and just say I did, when I clearly know that I didn’t. I think that’s rooted in me not really wanting to do it, coupled with the fact that you usually ask me at the end of the day when I’m set and ready to go to sleep. I’d love to give that half-asleep sigh you’ve mastered and follow it up with “I’ll do it tomorrow.”
I’m not sure what you expect me to get out of this. I don’t know what it is that I’m going to discover. The deal was that I’d “do nightly journaling.” No prompt. No purpose. It just seemed like a good idea for you? What other option did I have? Again, it feels like just another thing keeping me from moving on. This is punishment, and a constant reminder of things I’ve done in the past. I think there’s value in not forgetting the mistakes of the past, but I cannot agree with a neverending reminder.
So, with all this disdain for the process, why am I doing it now? Because you asked me to.