Somedays I think of things to write here and then by the next morning have totally forgotten what they were.
Last night I had a dream about this journal and writing about other people. Someone was upset with me for writing about them, and I was explaining to a different person how I wasn't writing anything personal about other people and that I hadn't even decided if I was sharing any of the writing anyway.
I worked yesterday, I played D&D at
█████ in the evening. I don't remember anything else of note that happened. Sometimes work can be very immersive in a way that the hours fly by, especially when I'm working on something that goes smoothly: I know what I'm doing and how to do it.