I am a failed journaller. I have started and not finished more blank journals than the average bear, I think. I love writing the first entry. All the promises made to myself to write every secret thought and feeling. To diary my inner-most thoughts and to document my brilliance. But then, after a few days, or weeks, or if I was especially dilligent, months, I realize that perhaps I don't have as much to say as I thought. Or that what I am saying is boring or repeticious (or horribly mis-spelled!). But I go on record as saying that this time will be different. (Suddenly a resounding "HA!" echoed in my head!) I will also go on record saying: my intentions are true and well-meaning.
I would like to clarify my choice of titles. It is not intended to be a direct Kermit reference. As can be attested to by my loving, patient husband, I LOVE the color green. And frequently, as is everyone's, my life is not easy. I know I don't have to spell it out, but I will; if you put the two above key points together it equals= It's Not Easy Being Green.