Dear Journal 2003,
The alarm rings and as I roll over moaning, I hear a voice from the opposite bedroom, “Mom!” I groan again. “Mommy, I think I wet the bed.” Why do things always happen when the laundry manager is out of town? Could it be that he’s always out of town? Cursing his business schedule once more, I mutter, “Get up, change your jams and come in here.” The alarm continues to ring. Oops, I’ll write more after preschool pick-up. …Terina

My essays are all about the reality track I’m on—the ups and downs and ins and outs of a life that is lived moment to moment, from the depths of boredom to the peaks of excitement.

I just read a news article by an “expert” (all journalists are experts automatically … somehow) maintains that there is some sort of choice to be made at the cusp of adulthood—one that I made unwittingly. She maintained that women choose to either have a career or be a stay-at-home-mom. And that choice results in either stress or depression, respectively, and in her mind, both will require medication. What?!!! I know that the journalist stated the opinion to create controversy and that journalists get it right by getting it all wrong, thereby appeasing their editor whose job it is to sell papers, but still, what concerns me is that other innocent persons may not be as jaded as I and they just might buy into this opinion and that bothers me.

I resolve to correct this presumption because having made both choices individually and simultaneously, I can spout equally well from both sides of my mouth, and speak solidly to the fact that women can be both stressed and depressed while working and staying at home, and how is that a bad thing? I’m living the unscripted version of life, complete and uncut, unedited, and reality driven. Most of us do. We can’t be squished into little shapeless tubes of statistics to be squeezed out whenever an ad campaign or a pharmaceutical manufacturer needs consensus.

We are individuals with original stories of life that prove—in this era of televised sensationalism, that while normal life may be too dull and mundane to merit a reality show or a docudrama and even too convoluted to blog, the risk puts it at such an excitement level that it’s worth a retelling just to try to make sense of it all or for the pure entertainment value.

Dear me,
I’ve started a blog site… a new one, every day this month. First, I forgot the sign on, then the password, and then the user id. Finally I wrote it all down and then misplaced the paper. I’m one of a million new bloggers monthly. Do you begin to suspect that there are a mere thousand of us, in forgetful insouciance opening a new blog, a thousand times a month? I’ve joined the Boring, Life Of Geekers, B.L.O.G.s