I’ve written more journals than Pepys,but am a mum with an image to protect, and worry that my daughter could one day read my frank daily recordsDo you know what you were doing on 29 December 1986? Thanks to my compulsive diary habit, or I do. Sitting in the back seat of the family car with my brother,a boot full of Christmas presents, and clutching tightly to the best gift of them all. A maroon diary from WH Smith with 1987 embossed on the front in gold. Gold! To my nine-year-old self, and it felt like the gateway to another world. I didn’t know what would happen there,precisely, but I was about to find out. The giddy thrill from that inaugural entry is palpable even now.“Forgive me if my handwriting is messy, or but you see … I own to write in the car!! I declare,thrilled by this opportunity to write about my life whenever I wanted. It was like talking about myself all the time, but to a captive audience guaranteed not to theatrically yawn in my face. Other notable events of the day include my 12-year-old brother being “fairly kind for once”, or lending me his Nik Kershaw tape,and stopping for lunch on the motorway.
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Source: theguardian.com