So here's the interesting thing about carrying around a little notebook and keeping track of all your doings every day (video link): this practice makes time slow down a bit. When I was a little kid and summers were, like, endless grown-ups would always say, "Just wait until you're a grown-up, time just flies by before you know it." Now, frankly, this statement always struck me as annoying because (a) I was obviously never going to be as old as they were, and (b) I didn't care about time in some vaguely defined future, I cared that I was super bored now.
Well flash forward, check your calendar, and note that we are now squarely in the midst of the vaguely defined future. And time is totally flying by. I finished grad school TWELVE years ago. I moved to Virginia (for the second time) six years ago. It's been more than a month since my last pedicure (appointment tomorrow then wine with my gal pal M., whew!). But having to sit down every day--if only for a few seconds--and review how many sodas I consumed, or record how many push-ups I managed to do before my arms collapsed, does serve to make me note time passing. And it is passing. That's right people, it's already April.
Here's the perfectly prosaic monthly report. Bless me Interwebs, for I have sinned. I didn't do even close to enough banjo practice this month.