Searching for the Perfect Notebook

Finding meaning in the hunt for the office supplies.

I love office supplies.

I love the promise of organization, goal setting, and a meaningful life all wrapped in items that are so ordinary and obtainable.

A new pen will push me to finally write that novel. A new notebook will get my to-do list in shape, and I will get everything done. A pack of post-it notes will organize my entire life.

Though my desk is teaming with stacks of notebooks many of which are unused, I ordered a new notebook yesterday. It looked perfect. It is red, dot grid, leather bound. Based on its description on Amazon, it looks ideal. I put it in my cart even though it was an unnecessary expense.

I spent days moving it in and out of my cart. Save for later. Treat myself. I couldn’t decide.

But yesterday, I finally clicked buy and sat back to revel in my buyer’s remorse with $20 less to my name.

There is no resale value for a notebook. It is an expense. The money is gone.

I open it up and look at the promise of the blank page.

The stories I will write, the goals I will achieve, the life I will document. The blank page holds all these things.