I’m terrible at journaling. My journals are sporadic collections of nonsense. I recently pulled out a bunch of old journals filled with to do lists, joke ideas, and things I want to do with my life rants. Not one journal had been completed. They all have the middle part of the journal blank, then at the back there are a few entries that seem more interesting because of their odd placement but they’re not. No grand emotional disclosures, no scandalous involvement with the underbelly of society, and sadly, no sexual content. The best thing I found in my journals are a collection of fake apology letters. I didn’t realize how prone I was to fake apologies but they are proof of my overbearing conscience. This one was written in red ink at a diagonal on the page.
Dear Credit Card Company,
I am writing to inform you I will not be paying you anymore. I apologize in advance for any inconvenience this may cause you. I don’t remember all the things you paid for for me. I really don’t and that makes me feel even worse. Plus, I kinda knew I would never be able to pay you back in full. I’m just being honest. I don’t know why I took advantage of the situation. I think it’s because we never met in person. I really do. I think if I had met an actual person who lent me cash, I would have been more inclined to settle my debt. It doesn’t really matter at this point. The damage is done. I do want to thank you for the trip to the British Virgin Islands. One of the best times of my life so far. If you ever get a chance to go there, do it. Go to the Willy T. It’s a cool boat bar that’s off Norman Island I think. You can get drunk and jump off the boat, you can even jump naked and they give you a free tshirt. It’s impossible to fret about unpaid debts there. You’ll forget all about me and my inability to make things right. I am enclosing my card, I cut it up. I bought one more pair of jeans before I did. The Seven for All Mankind flares that I like. So thank you. I’m sure you’ll be in touch but odds are I’ll never return your calls. It’s just easier that way. Easier for me.
Thanks and again, sorry.
-the date on this is too recent to disclose
I also found one to my TV when I had forgotten to pay the cable bill and one to my amazing bed that I had spilled a hot beverage on.
This is why I save all my journals, someday they could be used as evidence in my insanity plea.
Thanks for listening!
Kendra is a stand up comic living in Brooklyn where she owns a super comfortable bed. She spends most of her time wondering where the hell her sugar daddy is and hoping he didn’t settle.