Forty-three and counting

How do you try to estimate the effect on your life of a habit that continues 43 years?

It was September 6, 1966. I was 20 years old, at the end of a summer of working in a glass factory, a few days away from heading out for my sophomore year in college. For a long time I had wanted to keep a journal – a diary, may be what I called it then – and finally I bought one.

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