Personal Narrative: How The Journal Changed My Life

Thank you for talking to me on phone this morning. I would like to work with Ryan so that I can learn from him a lot. Through my working experience in medical industry, I will be able to contribute to his project.

As I am writing/typing this journal based on a life event, which changed my outlook on life, I

Monday- For my workout I did back and biceps. I started warming up by down 4 sets of pull ups ranging from 10 to 15 reps. Next, I did 4 sets of dumbbell rows followed by 5 sets of lat pull downs. I then did 4 different exercises for biceps which were dumbbell curls, barbell curls, and preacher curl and then finished with the curl machine. I did 4 sets of each exercise. For my breakfast I ate a croissant egg and ham sandwich. For lunch I had my protein shake with a banana and peanuts. For my dinner I had rice, cottage cheese and a chicken quesadilla.

It's been a very busy summer so far. At the end of July, we returned from 23 days in Germany and Scotland.

Did the journal change my life or the way I lived it, not particularly. Before this project started I would write almost every night anyway, not necessarily in a journal because I prefer typing to writing as it feels less permanent and certainly more changeable, but the journal I used for the project was my actual one, with entries in it long before the project was assigned. Carrying the book around your neck was a bit overkill, but I have always carried a notebook with me. Over the summer I went to Philly almost every day and I filled up about 3 notebooks full of random thoughts because everyday on the train I would have to wait 20 minutes to get to my stop at 12th, 13th and locust so I could go to work and during that time I didn't really

I choose my journal on my actual interest. The real state bussines is very profitable. Therefore, I choose a journal on that field. The analysis was complex. I had to read with patient all the artlicle and detect the ethos, pathos, and logos. I read the article multiple times, each time something new was coming.

Somebody talk me about the journal. Before, I didn’t know why this mean, when I grow up. My big sister advised me that each other’s people may have his journal (everyone). This is a little book where you protect all your important privacy. Also, because I communicate, share whatever I want, I think that many people use this book as like as second life.

I am a strong reader/writer learning style which I use to my advantage. I value developing my knowledge and skills through research of information and resource which will further develop me as an occupational therapist. While I currently reflect though thought on my experiences at the end of the day, I feel I would benefit from journaling. I will aspire to make the use of reflective journaling a stronger focus for my placement in order to improve my professional practice.

I was fifteen and in the fifth grade. I had been homeschooled until I was approximately thirteen years of age when we moved to a different house and stopped school altogether. When I was 10, my mother stopped teaching my brother and I through books and made us use computers to do all of our learning instead. I was not very happy with the change because it was much more difficult to learn without anyone to actually teach a lesson. We did our work on the computer and taught ourselves for a few months until we had some of our family move in with us. They were a bit of a distraction to my brother and I during the times that we were trying to do our work. My mother saw this and chose to put our education on hold until they had moved out that way, it wouldn't affect our grades anymore.

When I was younger I had a paper route. My brother and I shared one. It wasn’t to big. We earned about $20 each every month. We could usually do it in about 20 minutes. We had to do it year round. Rain or shine. We usually did it when we got home from school on Tuesdays. It was pretty easy.

Growing up, I was a timid kid who was not very fond of change and trying new things in life. During elementary school, I was with my parents at their restaurant all the time because they did not like the idea of me being home alone, or with a babysitter. Constantly hiding behind my parents in front of customers at the restaurant, I hardly talked with people outside of school and my home. When I started sixth grade, a family friend came over to the restaurant one day, and told me that I should practice Taekwondo under his instruction in his dojo. I was reluctant at first, but my parents highly encouraged me that I should try it because they did not want me being at the restaurant all the time since I was a kid. Thinking it over, I saw that there was no harm in trying something new with someone I was familiar with. Within a week, I agreed and started going to the classes in hopes that it would

The night air felt uncomfortably damp, and my neighborhood was exceptionally quiet as I locked the front door. If I walked at a brisk pace, I might make it to the library before it’s closed.

Entry One- This is the first entry to my new journal I have begun. As my memory continues to deteriorate, one of the nurses at the senior home suggested that I write all my thoughts and events from the day down. Then if I forget about what happened the previous day I can read my journal and know what had happened.

As a young child, I grew up comforted by constant encouragement that, “Someday you are going to do great things,” although it wasn’t until now, my senior year of high school, that I have finally uncovered my own sense of being. This upcoming July, I will be attending the Austin School of Spa Technology to study Cosmetology as well as Makeup Artistry. In addition, I will be attending Fulton Montgomery Community College in September to begin the study of Chemistry. I plan to continue working towards my two-year degree at Fulton Montgomery Community College. I plan to continue with my future endeavors and transfer to a four-year school with the intent of becoming a chemistry teacher.

I open the door to my house shaking. My palms where sweaty and my heart was pounding. I peek inside the messy house. Nobody was there. I sprinted across the room, ran up the stairs, but before I could get to my bedroom, the man pops out of know where and pushes me down the stairs. I rolled all the way to the bottom of the stairs crying. He just looked at me with the most blank stare. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week. His brown hair was in knots. I guess he left the bar earlier tonight. Then the man started to walk down the stairs just looking at me. I stood up and slowly walked backwards. Then I ran around to the back of the kitchen yelling, "Harvey! Harvey! Harvey!" Suddenly my dog bolts out of my bedroom and nocks the man down the stairs. Harvey ran on top of him, and over to me. We stood there for a couple of seconds and looked at the drunk man laying on the ground. "Love you dad." I said softly. Suddenly I looked in corner of my eye. There was mom. Sitting there with a magazine in her hand. Looking older and older everyday. She looked at me. Then went back to reading here magazine. Pretending nothing happened. I grabbed my backpack, and ran out of the house with Harvey.