Obsessive Journaling
“She Said, ‘See Entry #46: May 2009, Margin Note 3.’ I Just Asked If She Wanted Coffee.”
Margot Levenson has chronicled every thought, feeling, sneeze, and moderately interesting lunch since 2008. Her notebooks–numbered, color-coded, and stored by emotional volatility–now require a personal Dewey Decimal system and a temperature-controlled closet.
“You never know when a Tuesday in 2013 will be relevant again,” she said, referencing her volume titled *Light Rain, Heavy Existentialism.*
Friends say conversations with Margot now require citations. “I mentioned a movie,” one friend said. “She told me I once hated that actor in Entry 108, page 44, subheading ‘Why All Ryans are Suspicious.'”
Margot is currently writing a memoir with a preface, an appendix, and three cross-referenced indices for her past lives and pasta preferences.
She hopes to digitize her work into an AI that auto-generates passive-aggressive footnotes during arguments.
She calls it “truth preservation.” Her therapist calls it “narrative overkill.”
Auf Wiedersehen, amigos.
