Keeping a diary is one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.
Sticking to it was a struggle at first; I stopped writing for about six months in 2020, but I don’t think I’ve missed a single day since then.
I’ve got a record of most of my two sons’ most hilarious observations, for example – the kind of things that inspire parents to turn to each other and say: “We really should write this down.”
But then, never do.
(“Some people are allergic to Arsenal,” my five-year-old son remarked on Saturday, April 20, as I sat on the couch watching the Premier League.)
The diary has endowed me with a superhuman memory.
Earlier this year, my wife mentioned that her physician insisted she’d had a blood test a few months prior, though she couldn’t recall it. A quick search through my diary settled the debate instantly.
My favourite thing about my diary is the end of the year – that’s when I compile a list of memorable moments, funny quotes, and lessons learned.
Like this gem:
My father-in-law came over for dinner this summer. I asked him how his new diet was going. “It’s been rough,” he confessed. “I ate eight bananas last night.” “Eight bananas!?” I asked, incredulous. “Yeah, I woke up four times during the night and ate two bananas each time. Eight bananas,” he repeated.
(To be fair, avoiding all those cookies must have left him famished.)
Anyhow.
It’s that time of the year when people make New Year’s resolutions.
My advice: start keeping a diary. You’ll thank me later.
Stay away from the bananas, though.
All the best,
Ragnar Tómas
