Simple Journaling: Uncle Bobbys Snarky Guide to Dodging $40 Guilt Machines
Dear Uncle Bobby - It’s a new year, and I keep seeing people buying fancy leather-bound journals and talking about how “life-changing” journaling is. I’m tempted to try it, but I know myself — I am afraid I’ll write one entry, then abandon it forever. Should I bother, or is this just another hobby destined for the “never finished” pile?
Bracing for Unfinished Business,,
Dear Diary Dropout
Ah, Dropout, welcome to the seductive world of journaling — where the idea of self-reflection is way more appealing than the actual practice. You’re not just buying a journal; you’re buying the fantasy that you’ll magically transform into the kind of person who wakes up early, drinks herbal tea, and writes profound thoughts under soft morning light. Spoiler: you won’t.
Here’s how this plays out. You buy a $40 leather-bound masterpiece that smells like success, grab the fanciest pen you can find, and spend an hour crafting your first, deeply introspective entry. “Dear Journal, today is the first day of the rest of my life…” you’ll write. Then you’ll close the book, feel accomplished, and never touch it again. By July, that journal will be shoved in a drawer under a pile of mismatched socks, silently mocking you.
If you really want to try journaling, keep it simple. Forget the leather-bound guilt trip. Grab a notebook from the dollar store and a pen that barely works. Your journal doesn’t need to look Instagram-worthy; it just needs to survive the occasional ramble about how Karen from HR stole your lunch again.
And don’t fall for the pressure to make every entry profound. Who says your journal can’t just be a list of random thoughts, like “I forgot to take the trash out,” “Why does my neighbor own so many wind chimes?” and “Is guac really worth the extra charge?” Spoiler: it is.
If all else fails, embrace fake journaling. Open a blank page, write a cryptic phrase like “It’s happening again,” and leave it at that. When you inevitably abandon the journal, whoever finds it will assume you lived a much more exciting life than you did.
In short, Dropout, journaling isn’t about perfection — it’s about surviving the urge to spend $40 on a glorified guilt machine. If it helps you vent, great. If not, at least you’ll have a fancy notebook to display on your shelf for when people visit. Either way, you’re winning.
Happy scribbling! Or, you know, not.
— Uncle Bobby