Back at it again...Yay me! ok. Happy February! I'll jump right in!
Back in November, I started this thing called a bullet journal. It's kept my life organized, and I've done some cool things with it. I do monthly and weekly spreads, and they're all pretty and artsy. The bullet journal is a kind of pinterest-y trendy thing right now. A lot of people have them, and I think the beauty of it is that no two are alike. I, however, like mine because it isn't ALL pretty and artsy. Sure, I have monthly and weekly spreads that I meticulously put together, leaving room to track my habits and the books I've read and the movies I've seen (most of which I have neglected to fill out). I look at the journals of my friends (who don't make daily entries), and they are pretty and artsy, and are all organized and crap, and I sort of feel bad about mine, but also I feel good about it. It's me. It's my journal. It's full of random crap from the inside of my brain, and to-do lists, and doodles, and all kinds of other random stuff. It makes me me. It's wonderful. I tend to forget to make pages some days, and it's messy, and there's all kinds of stuff taped in, and snippets that I wrote down about my life. I might put a few quotes and/or entries here, to fill up space.
This is what I want my whole life to be like. I don't want it to be perfect, I want it to be ME. I want to be wild, and all over the place. I want to stay on top of things (hence the lists), but I want to make art and be creative and glitter-glue basketball tickets to the pages of my life. I want them to be decorated with pretty doodles from when I'm bored, and I want to be able to flip back through to see what another time was like for me. So, not just as a monthly thing, I'm resolving to make my life less perfect. Less meticulously crafted. I need to learn that no matter what my life looks like, it's pretty because I made it. It'll always be full of personality and spunk, and that's what's good, right?