Yesterday morning I would have given much to be able to sleep in. Today I could have slept in but I lay in bed thinking of the story I want to revise and submit for a contest, about the foundation newsletter, about so much I need to do or should do. And I thought about my exhibitionist tendencies - why do I say what I do in this journal? Why do I write intimate thoughts? People I don't know, whom I will never see or hear from, can read these thoughts. Maybe it's mostly a safe thing, to throw it out there, let it go, get it out of my head and into someone else's. Once I have these thoughts written I do feel some relief. Maybe this makes room for more, too.