An overdue catch up (with myself)

I've carried a journal around with my since I was a kid. I loved to write. Even if it didn't make any sense, have a plot or was grammatically inaccurate. I liked it. Always have, always will. For me, writing is a time to tap into my imagination or to articulate through pen the everyday occurrences that mean something for a moment and then disappear. I am that person who has journals full of "quotes to note" as I call them. I also have 100s of pages worth of story telling in bits -- meaning -- it's harder to remember what I was actually writing about. But eventually I get the gist. Trust me, when I die it will be a lot of paper to be recycled and if anyone is remotely interested, it will be sort of like a game or a treasure hunt to make sense of my rambles. Like now? I'm a rambler. If I could only grasp onto my thoughts long enough to make an tangible sense of them ....but it's a struggle I've had since childhood.

Actually it just feels nice to time and pretend like I am working on the 2008 planning and budget like I should be. But that's not doing "it" for me. I think the generation I am apart of, we need to tap into our creativity outlets -- whatever those are. Whether it's a nap, a blog, a walk, we will and cannot function as the workers who simply produce. It -- and by it I mean work -- has to be bigger than simply a paycheck. It has to mean something.