Last night I went to Barnes and Noble. We are hosting my two nieces, who are extremely fun and easy to have around, but (hello) five kids. My husband suggested I get out for a little while to be amongst grown-ups and not be responsible for anything.
I was on a search for a notebook, because I am a chronic list-maker and my current notebook is almost full. If it is not written down, it pretty much doesn’t stand a chance of being remembered, so I am always filling up notebook pages. I don’t do well with little pieces of paper that get crumpled at the bottom of my purse- just give me one big notebook for all of it.
I don’t have a smartphone, but even if I did- I think I’d still use pen and paper for my lists. I like to make little boxes next to my tasks and then check them off. (Sometimes I write something down that I’ve already done, just to give it the old checky checkerton. List nerd. Noted.)
Barnes and Noble was open for one last hour by the time I got there. I spent the entire time, wandering around the journal/notebook/sketchbook section, looking for the perfect notebook. (I prefer spiral, so it will lay flat. Wide ruled lines. And a good size to keep in my purse).
There was a lot of cutesy stuff there. Owls are still very hot in the journal section at Barnes and Noble. And lots of quotes about living your dreams and being fabulous. Nothing fit the bill.
The point of all of this is to say that I looked at a limited supply of products for an entire hour, and still came away empty-handed. This wasn’t the rabbit-hole of Amazon. It was a shelving unit that measured about 10 feet by 5 feet, and a couple of endcaps.
Astounding. I am, truly, compulsive and particular about my notebooks.
Help me feel normal: Is there something that you are a weirdo about like this? Would anyone else spend an hour looking at notebooks and STILL walk away empty-handed?