Diary, my old friend…

Once, it was a familiar word to me. I used to write diary since secondary school. It really helps me to recall many memories. I wrote when I was happy, or when I was unhappy. After moving to Kuching, I wrote about my marriage life. When I was expecting, I wrote about everything of my little ones. Diary acts as a platform between me and the baby.

Anyway, having two children and taking the long distance education now, the diary lies quietly most of the time in the drawer. Twenty-four hours a day sometimes seems short to me. The busy life has “train” me to finish the tasks on hand in a given time so that I can handle well the roles of a teacher, a mother, a wife and a daughter-in-law. The result is, I prefer to take the time to rest rather to meet with my diary.

Somehow I missed the diary too. When I felt depressed or isolated, I took out the diary. It seems like an old friend, telling stories to me in a calm manner. And I like to listen to it. After enjoying the secret moments with the diary, I felt that I’m energetic again. I became strong and confidence to face the reality.

Oh, my diary. I shall back to you soon.