I love to write, I love to rant, at times incoherent ramblings of my anything but lucid mind. Today my boss handed me 1--2-3-4-5 - yep that's right, FIVE pages of my journal and said, I think you left these in my folder. How the heck do you forget five torn out pages of your journal in your boss's folder. Far out.
The look in his eyes said he read those words on the pages, not sure whether he stomached the entire five pages, but judging by that look, he had read enough.
When will i learn to keep my personal life personal and to the confines of my bedroom not scribble them down on every piece of paper i find.
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