This Week’s Journaling Theme: Your Personal Operating Manual

NOTE: I have a few writing workshops coming up. Questions? Contact me.
STILL HERE: An Online Introductory Workshop for LGBT+ Journalers (Nov. 18 & 20)
CHAPTER BY CHAPTER: Writing Our Lives – a 6 Week Journaling Workshop
NEW: A Biweekly Online Writers Group for LGBT+ Writers
I love this one. It’s fun to do, and it’s a good way to clarify who we are, what we need, and how we see ourselves.
Your Very Own Operating Instructions
Manuals, warnings, and fine print for a human being.
Every appliance comes with a manual nobody reads until something breaks. The setup steps, the care warnings in small print, the troubleshooting section that assumes you already know what “Error 4” means. This theme asks us to produce that manual for ourselves. It could be humorous, it could be very serious (remember to take daily meds that keep you alive), it could be both.
Consider it in detail. No part of your “proper care and maintenance” manual for yourself is too small. Write it as if you’re leaving it for the next you.
Prompts
Setup & Requirements. Every device needs the right conditions to run. What do you need at the start of a day to function properly—sleep, quiet, coffee, a specific kind of company or its absence? Write your “setup instructions,” as literally as you can manage.
Recommended Care. What keeps you running well over time, and what voids the warranty? Write your care label—the “machine wash cold, do not tumble dry” of being you. Include at least one instruction most people would find surprising.
Known Malfunctions. Every model has its quirks. What goes wrong with you, under what conditions, and what’s the fix, if there is one? Write this as a troubleshooting section: symptom (foul mood), likely cause (restless sleep), recommended action (daily nap).
Fine Print. The disclaimers nobody reads: what you are not responsible for, what happens with extended use, what this model was never actually designed to do no matter how often it’s asked. Write the warning label you’d put on yourself if you were required by law to be honest about it.