The title pretty much says it all.

This is the journal of Jane Brown. 
Each journal entry may be very short or very long. Entries may be close together or far apart. It depends on when and if Jane decides to or remembers to update her journal. If ever. Just like most of the non-diary or journal writer keepers out there - or uninspired authors. Yep.

Warning: VERY SLOOOW updates. This is a story written on a whim. Let's see how long the inspiration will last for. This style of writing is somewhat experimental.

Disclaimer: This is a work of FICTION and is not based on any one person. Any portrayal of real people or real events (excluding some major world events) is entirely accidental and coincidental. It is in not in any way, shape of form meant to be a commentary on anyone or anything, even less on current issues in society.

This is literally meant to be boring (hence the ordinary title) without being too boring. It is just about (and meant to be about) the average slow paced life and interests of an average person.

The aim is to keep this for general audiences and not go down the romance route, so that my little nieces and nephews can read this as an example of how to write rubbish - uh, I mean fiction. Unfortunately, my imagination and brain keep running away with the plot and taking it down the adult fiction route... So, sorry, my little nieces and nephews. You won't be reading this version of the story. No way. Your parents might decide to silence me and then you would no longer have a fun aunty to teach you useless knowledge.

Weather: no idea. No window. In hospital.


People have been acting weirdly around me since I came out of surgery earlier this evening. I don't know what's going on. They won't meet my eyes as if they feel guilty about something. Or am I the guilty one? Can't be me.


Why do I get the feeling that someone or someones have read my journal? It's moved and some pages have creases they didn't have before. I'd better hide the book under my pillow when I'm done with it later. Better yet, burn it first chance I get. If that evil guy finds out I was the cause of any investigation, I would be pretty much done for.


Let's not think about or talk about such horrible thoughts. Let's find some nicer topics.


I had a light lunch. There was roast chicken and gravy with boiled vegetables and some sort of choux pastry type thing. Jelly and orange juice cups on the side. It doesn't sound like a light lunch after writing it down. It felt like it was light. It had been slightly bland and had needed some extra salt. It had been quite a small portion, small enough that I had finished it and felt satisfied but not full. Isn't that a surprise?


I didn't think I'd have much of an appetite after the surgery, but there we go.


After having grown up without any privacy to speak of, now that I have been able to leave home and live my own life, my privacy is my own. Who dares invade my privacy? I'm fiercely protective about myself. I have to be. I shouldn't have let down any of my walls and been talked into letting down my guard. I've been tricked. Betrayed. 


Who asked me to start journaling? Is sit only my fault? Should I stop so as not to invite further invasion of my privacy? Why should I have to stop what I want to do because other people have been, are being rude?


So angry but have no where and no way to vent my anger.


No way. Why are there police officers outside my ward room? Who invited the police? Which sticky beak decided to...


Chapter 26 - 24th entry