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TBD Submission: March 7, 1986

~From Elaine, in the UK, shared with permission.~
“I thought it would be interesting to see what I was doing 30 years ago today. It was a Friday, I was living in Scotland and I remember the winters being cold. I had been married for about five years and there was some domestic discord going on which I passively rage about.

March 7, 1986
her diary entry from March 7, 1986, Scotland.

‘Friday 7 March 1986
Friday again. This week has past (sic) quite quickly. Am finding it hard to wake up in the mornings, my bed’s too warm & cosy and sleep is so delicious. Two red stamps on my card this week. What am I to do.
Don’s a lot better today. Too ill of course to wash-up or anything remotely house-worky but well enough to fix his computer, play it and go round to Steve’s for the evening to record tapes and no doubt play games too as it’s almost 11 and he’s still not back.’




I kept diaries between 1985 and 1988. They were from Habitat, and I liked that they were the same square shape each year.

E's books
her diaries, 1985, 1986, 1987, and 1988.

I would be delighted to be part of this project and community, sharing snippets of our lives and experiences, because whatever we are going through right now, someone somewhere has been there before us, and it’s good to know that.”

~Thank you!~



2 thoughts on “TBD Submission: March 7, 1986”

  1. I love the call-and-response of diary readings — yours, then someone chiming in with their own memories! It makes me wish I’d kept a diary. I tried, but I hated my voice so much (stilted, pretentious, writer-wannabe) that I stopped. What’s the point keeping a diary when your own words make you cringe so much you’ll never read them.

    1. Many of my entries (including one due up in a couple weeks) start with some version of “Why Do I even bother.. I am so boring…” I get that. 😉 And I’m hearing of a lot of people who kept a diary, but hated what they wrote so much that they threw them away. One guy actually buried his in his backyard…! But I think pleasure can come from returning to a previous version of yourself without judgment. Be it from reading old diaries–as Elaine found above–or looking at old photographs, etc. I mean, it’s always that HORRID prom photo your parents insisted you take, that you hate for decades of you life, that eventually makes you smile, right?
      The call-and-response is exactly where I hope this project heads. You can always call the voicemail line and leave a contribution of your own!

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