Dear Diary, I’m sorry my life has been so uneventful this past year. I had no television interviews, victories over implacable enemies, blue-ribbon prizes, or red-letter days to report. I didn’t write a book, run for office, or get a degree online. In fact, if the dates hadn’t been preprinted on your pages, I’m not sure I’d have known what day of the week it was half the time. My achievements and pleasures will not go down in history. I remembered to put the trash out on Wednesdays most weeks and the recycling on Thursdays. I saw the first goldfinch of my life on my birdfeeder, accompanied by a bluebird and a red-bellied woodpecker. I guess you could say that was a three-bird day, and I’m still talking about it! I bought a glamorous red hat I don’t need and have no place to wear except Trader Joe’s. But it makes me smile. Yesterday, the ghost of the full moon was in the sky at 10 am like the memory of a long-lost love. I voted against scoundrels. I read enough mysteries and watched enough true crime shows to pull off the perfect murder (hint: you’ll always get caught putting antifreeze in his sweet tea). I made my bed every day, even though I didn’t always want to get out of it. I did more yoga in the past year than in the past five, but I still struggle to balance on one leg. I made a perfect loaf of zucchini bread. And so on, day after day. Dear Diary, I don’t know what lies ahead, but I’ll continue to faithfully record the beautiful nothingness of it and be thankful for your patient, unjudging ear. XOXO Nikki
