Bloggeroskis

I don't particularly enjoy writing. I never really have. It's always stressed me out since I can remember: from writing 5 paragraph essays in junior high to writing my thesis, to blogging occasionally. However, I just read through my last 10 posts or so (which span the last 8 months, so not an incredibly high number of posts per month), and realize how important it is to share your thoughts. Even if those it's being shared with are question marks of who and when.

It's fun to read my emotions. I remember exactly how I was feeling during those moments: happy, pissed, remorseful, hopeful, and a million other things, I'm sure. I also get a kick out of reading these entries. I don't think of myself as genuinely funny, but I'm absolutely awkward/quirky funny. Maybe only to me. But laughter is good medicine, so at least I am taking some (a lot) of that each day!

I am also keeping a journal-like book for a close friend who is on her mission in Honduras. She has been gone for just over a year now. I vowed to write often when she left. But again, writing isn't my thing, my passion. I've written, a handful of times. Enough to cover quite a few pages, but I want to write more so she can have a journal, robust with the inner workings of Katie, when she returns. I read through it the other night as I was packing for Tucson. I was laughing for a good twenty minutes. It's hilarious. Maybe only to me. Hopefully to Emily as well. But goodness, that needs to keep comin'.

Both of these journeys have inspired - no, that's strong, have encouraged - me to continue to write. Whilst it may not be the one thing I cannot wait to do when I get home from work or when I open my eyes and stretch my muscles in bed on a Saturday morning, it has proven to be a source of entertainment and personal happiness in the end.