Writing Dail(e)y

Do you know why I started this blog?

That’s a trick question, by the way. Because I’m not even really sure why I started it. I mean, I knew I wanted to write more. And since I had the misfortune to not have a name that rhymed with something like “monthly” or “annually,” I suddenly found myself writing “daily” or “dailey,” as I like to say. Now that I have been blogging quite regularly, I’ve amassed a lot of posts, and of course, I’m proud of them.

But I can’t help but realize how ephemeral it all is.

For example, the entire structure of this blog is that I write something daily. So, after 24 hours is up, that particular post goes on to live the rest of its sad life in an archive. No more interaction or friendly banter in the comments. Heck, even forget about what I wrote.

And don’t get me started on the idea of a blog itself. What happens in about 5 years when blogging is obsolete and goes the way of most technological formats? Will I have to update my blog on a hologram soon? Will I have to print my blogs out and put them in photo albums for my kids so that I can reminisce about the good old days when you actually had to fly to different places in planes rather than teleport there? Will I suddenly be claiming that I had to walk to school, which was up a hill, both ways?

Of course, these are all my thoughts when I’m feeling a little overwhelmed. Which is about every night around 10 PM, when I’m scratching my head, trying to think of something to fill the page with and only coming up with goose egg.

And at the same time that I finally get some inspiration is when I realize how completely magical this blog can be. I’m interacting with complete strangers (and mostly my mom) where once a day we both see eye to eye about something. That’s what hitting the “like” button does. It sends a message to me that essentially says, Yes, Bailey. You’ve hit a nerve in the human condition, and I need to recognize that. And for me? There’s no better compliment for what I do.

In the end, this blog doesn’t need to represent my legacy. It simply needs to connect me with one person in one 24-hour period to be successful.

Because our lives are not years, months, weeks, or even days, added altogether. They are moments and memories subtracted out and strung along. And while this blog may not be around for me to flip through like an old photo album someday, it still helps me to remember my moments in vivid (and sometimes nauseating) detail right now. And so a day or an experience is etched in my mind purely through the act of writing about it. And those tiny, precious moments will be my legacy someday.

I can’t thank you all enough for being a part of it.

Future Me

I had a definite vision when I was younger of what I would look like when I was older. Generally, I would be taller than the average height I find myself at currently. My hair would be really long, and so would my legs. In short, I’d be an older but more attractive and put-together version of myself. (What could go wrong?)

Fast forward about ten years and you’ll find that age has not been kind. Everything about me is pretty average, which is to say, not what I imagined. I certainly didn’t know how future me would fare, but I wasn’t thinking this.

And even now, I’m still making trouble for future me by assuming what she’ll look like or what she’ll want to do.

For example, I’m a bit lax when it comes to laundry. I let clean clothes pile up on my floor until they grow metaphorically moldy and need to be washed again. I actually try to trick myself by putting the clothes on my bed so that I’ll have to put them away before I go to sleep.

Enter future me. Future me does everything that present me doesn’t want to do. I think, future me will be a lot less tired than present me is. She’ll put these away.

But of course, in addition to being a disappointment in looks, future me is also a disappointment in acts. Because what ends up happening is future me takes the clothes off the bed and sets them on the floor. Or she sleeps on top of them, the clever fox. It’s just pointless to ask her to do the things I need to do in the future. It’s almost like I have to make it seem like it was her idea all along…

And really, it’s not fair of me to put all of that responsibility on her. It’s not right that I am going to put off things just so that future me can deal with them. It’s not good that her “to-do” list is as long as my arm.

And here’s the biggest problem with letting my future self do the things that I should be doing: I become my future me before I know it. That’s right, it doesn’t take long for present me to overtake future me. And then I’m stuck with stuff that I could have done beforehand and there’s less time to do it in.

So, my advice is to consider your future self. Can you save her a little time by doing something now? Can you make her quality of life a little better by helping her out? If you can, you won’t have to see the future to know that she really appreciates it.