I have a new black notebook.  With this new notebook arrived new ideas for things to write.  As my old dark brown notebook started to tear and fall apart, so did my motivation to write or when I did finally write, stick with it for more than 20 lines.  It’s so odd how motivation and creativity can dwindle at the same rate as an inatimate object and become reborn at the arrival of a new object.  Does this mean that my “creativity” solely rests on the presence of pretty things rather than talent?  Or am I inspired by change and new beginnings?  I’m not sure and frankly I don’t really want to pick one.  As an arts and science gal I reserve the right to never have to come to one solid conclusion.

Now that I have this new notebook I am writing down EVERYTHING.  You just said something hilarious/asinine/offensive?  Slip on a banana peel in my presence?  Inappropriately grab at a girl when her boyfriend is millimeters away? It’s going in the black notebook, and if I remember I will give you a co-author credit.

Are millimeters far?  I don’t know…I’m an American.  Making a note to look that up later.


my new notebook from the paper source