I’m an incredibly nostalgic person. I look at the past with such rose colored glasses, something that’s probably not SUPER healthy, but oh well. I think it leads to a positive, optimistic view that even things that feel bad at the time will end up being just fine.

This is great, in some ways. I refused to let go of my British study abroad friends, and years later they’re still there, and one is now mi novio. But also bad in others, like I am terrible at living in the moment and also at letter go of tiny, worthless things that are from past phases in my life. I don’t care at all about clothes or makeup or STUFF really. But that note my friend wrote me four years ago about grabbing lunch? INVALUABLE.

Because of this, I love to document things. But I also cannot keep up a journal because handwriting anything sucks and my brain thinks a million times faster than my wrist can move. Also who remembers to write often enough for it to be worth it? I have so many journals that I only write in when I’m on planes, because journaling during a plane ride makes sense. Otherwise? Not so much. (That said I LOVE notebooks and journals and have a collection of GORGEOUS ones from around the world. And will continue to collect them forever, probably.)

HOWEVER, I recently bought a 5-year Journal. Have you heard of them? They are SUCH a good idea, and I waited to post until some time had passed and I could track if I’d actually keep up with it or not. The verdict? Yes… when it’s convenient. When it’s on my bedside table with a pen resting on top, I’ll write every night for months straight. I put it in my work bag two weeks ago so I could take a picture of it to blog about… and didn’t write anything for those two weeks. Oops.

That said, it’s one of my favorite things. There’s only a little space for each day, so you pick the highlights and know you don’t have to dedicate much time to an entry. And it’s like a handwritten, more personal time-hop. I can look back and see where I was and what I was doing the year before, or eventually five years before.

I love the idea of the journeys this journal and I will go on together. In five years I hope to have traveled loads, maybe learned a language, HOPEFULLY (dear god), be living with Gareth. And who knows what else. When I write in the last row, I’ll be 30. I expect life will be pretty different then, and what a cool way to track all the little things that result in a drastically different life, all the little steps I’ll take to get from October 15, 2015, when I started, to October 14, 2020, where I’ll end. And an account of all the days in between.

Mine is also stuffed full of mementos from the days, like ticket stubs or hotel stationery. I never got into scrapbooking, but this feels like a great (and much less time consuming) alternative.