It is official. I really do have a problem, and I’m coming clean.
I am addicted to notebooks.
My whole blog is based on this subject – all of the lovely notebooks I have scattered around and yet hung onto over the years. Yes! But even after spending weekends poring over the notebooks I had come across, and coming up with this idea, and again after coming across notebooks that were filled, partly filled, devoid of much of anything, and more sadly, empty, I did something curious. While out on an impromptu shopping expedition during my lunch hour, I bought a Steno pad…another notebook.
Perhaps there’s something wrong with me? Most definitely. In truth, there was a legitimate reason behind the purchase. The previous day, during lunch, I was looking over the WordPress Reader and considering the Daily Post word, which was “Squat.” While considering this word, my brain began to work out a possible post. In the seconds it took for me to find something to record my brilliant idea, which is to sign onto my phone, find the notebook app, open a new page, and begin to type – the fleeting thought was already in fragments. The time spent manipulating a technological marvel, and my aging, slightly addled mind, almost led to a missed opportunity. It all worked out in the end. I was able to type out tiny bits and bursts of my thoughts, but it rattled me. A notebook and a pencil, would have done the trick.
What’s the big deal, you might ask? It is not a truly big deal, really. I just feel a little guilty that I may have aided and abetted in the wanton destruction of precious trees. There are so many partly and hardly filled notebooks in my collection, and apparently I still can’t stop. I have never been good at journal writing, or diary keeping – I deal in snippets, and doodles, and thoughts, and apparently grocery lists, to do lists, work notes (those are annoying), horrible attempts at Journaling that make me roll my own eyes (there aren’t many of those, thank goodness). In too many of them, I find the last half of the notebook empty. A strange and lonely waste, it is.
And where has that notebook that I purchased spent its last six days, might you ask? On my kitchen counter, does it lay, nowhere near me. What’s the only entry on the first page? A to do list.
I really do have a problem.
As always, I welcome and encourage feedback – thanks for reading! – L