In My Day, Blogs Were Called Journals
OK, it’s day three of renewed blogging and I’m going super eating-my-own-tail here, but there was a post I saw on Twitter last week about keeping journals during this period of isolation so that there’s a record of what it was like to actually live through it, rather than a sepia-tinged version in memory down the line. I thought that sounded like a good idea, and I had a journal that I bought but never used years ago sitting in my desk, so Sunday night I started writing about a page a day.
This makes me realize that my life is pretty boring, especially when I have to stay around the house all day.
It also makes me realize that my handwriting skills have atrophied somewhat and my hands cramp up way too easily. I used to be able to make it through at least a third of a blue book doing exams in college; now I’m ready to tap out by the end of that page.
So when I find some decent meditating and yoga resources this week and start using them, I better see if they have Hand Flexibility for Writers exercises anywhere. At least then, when the computers become sentient and wipe out mu digital footprint, there’ll be something in a basement for some future traveler to find. (If they can get past the other stuff in my basement.)
About Dave Thomer
Born and raised in Philadelphia. Studied philosophy at Fordham University in the Bronx, where I made many great friends and met my wonderful wife. We moved back to Philadelphia, where I studied philosophy some more and became a teacher. Online and off, I'm looking for ways that we can be better citizens and build stronger communities.