When I was little, and I came home from preschool, Mum would always ask what I had done there. And the answer was always the same: color, lunch, nap, play. Why bother asking if the answer is always the same? So I began to make things up.
Today, we learned about wolves. They brought in a big dog that looked like a wolf but he wasn't one because sometimes wolves will eat people. If they are hungry enough.
Today, I swung across the monkey bars faster than any of the boys.
Today, they had ice cream instead of ravioli for lunch. It was flavored like peppermint, so I asked if it was Christmas. Miss Lana said we were having an early Christmas, and we sang songs for the rest of the day.
These were the ideas in my head. But they were not real.
Thirteen years later, I spread my blank journals around my room. It had been a difficult year. I did not want to write anything, anymore. All the words were so sad. All the words were so similar, falling again and again like the same raindrops in a cold and dreary winter storm.
You can't make it up anymore.
Right, so what do I do?
Change the day. Go, visit the wolves. Train and run until you are faster than all the boys. Sing "Silver Bells" to yourself and string holly garlands. If you go through the day with this journal in mind, you will try to find magnificance.