That thing where you write an honest post about marriage and finances and how it's no fun to be the family fun police/nag, and then you realize it's probably too personal for a public blog, but you wrote all these pithy asides and what's the point of being so CHARMINGLY WITTY if it's just going into the paper journal?
So I guess my point here is that if when I die Google Drive is still a thing, that's where the real juicy stuff is. Ignore that paper journal, y'all. Yawnsville.
[Insert commentary about the nature of the public vs private self and the age of instant digital sharing, etc.]