LRE: I don’t write in my journals anymore.
DOC: Journals, PLURAL?
LRE: Yes, for different situations or moods.
DOC: Okay. I’ll pretend that’s normal.
LRE: It’s not like I have different journals for different personalities.
DOC: Are you sure?
LRE: Yes… one was for writing random thoughts, another for poetry, another for religious entries, and another for doodles.
DOC: Ha, I like saying the word, doodle.
LRE: Yeah, that’s a good one. Doodle.
DOC: So why don’t you write in your journals anymore?
LRE: I think because I can go to sleep at night now, once I get in bed.
DOC: Wow, what’s your trick?
LRE: Pantothenic acid and melatonin.
DOC: I was hoping for a more creative trick.
LRE: Oh, okay. I turn circles on my bed until the blankets are all twisted up like a king-size sheet in a top-loading washing machine, and then plop down and fall asleep.
DOC: Like a dog.
DOC: So now that you sleep like a dog, you don’t write in your journals? What does sleep have to do with writing?
LRE: I used to write when I couldn’t sleep.
DOC: That probably just kept you up longer.
LRE: Oh, definitely.
DOC: Do you miss your journals?
LRE: Some. I think I’m missing out on remembering parts of my life.
DOC: Guess you have this blog.
LRE: I guess, but there’s rarely anything serious in here and it doesn’t exactly keep track of real events in my life. It’s more fictional than memoire-istic.
DOC: Like me.
LRE: Yes. And fiction lets me make up words.
DOC: Like memoire-istic.
P.S. Lance thinks I’m crazy because of Therapy Thursdays. Freddy told me the same thing months ago. Having an imaginary psychiatrist makes me crazy?