Every year I spoil myself with one item of stationary which I will have to look at pretty much every day for the year to come. My diary.
I am rather fussy about my diary. It will be in and out of my handbag, thrown around, opened and closed and opened again. It needs to last some pretty grim treatment throughout the year. I also want int to be something I like looking at it. I do not want an ugly diary!
So every year I have been paying a visit to Paperchase each autumn to buy an A6 magnetic clip, hardbound, lined diary with two days to each page. Normally they have one harback magnetic Ag diary and it is a thing of beauty – flowers, butterflies or other patterns grace the cover. This year, it is mainly purple and has an embossed owl print all over it.
I love a fresh diary. It is a joy to see those blank pages and wonder what the year head will contain (well – maybe our enthusiasm over the year to come is slightly wilted this year! I think I am getting married in 2021. That’s our hope. As to where, how and exactly when, or who will be there with is – none of that is easy to decide right now.
“I never travel without my diary.
One should always have something sensational to read on the train.”
– Oscar Wilde
I was having a bit of a clear out last night, and I found an old diary. I obviously started writing it within a year of being attacked, and then abandoned it after around thirty pages of misery.
I hardly remember that time. I was scratching my head trying to recall when it was I felt quite so low. The strange thing about reading it was that I was clearly very angry with Jack at that point. There are no details that help me pinpoint when I wrote those words. But from what I can make out, something was going wrong, and as a result of all of my sufferings, I blamed Jack.
That makes me think it was around the time I returned to London. My first job back in London did not last long…because my boss seemed to think he had hired me for reasons other than he had advertised in he job description. I bolted as almost as soon as I realized what he had on his mind. I think I wrote those angry words in that diary blaming Jack for the ridiculous challenges I was facing.
It’s a diary I think I need to throw away now. It serves no purpose to be reminded of a time when I felt such pain. Having a good sort out…clearing away the past…it feels good.