But It Was So Pretty

I brought home a new journal today. No, I haven't finished any journals lately. And no, I haven't started the journals I got for Christmas...three years ago. But it was lime green, and it had dots inside instead of lines, and I was at the art store, and all of the pretty paper was calling so loudly to me and it was less than $10 and I couldn't just leave it there.

So I brought home a new journal today. And now I have to decide whether or not I'm going to write in it today or if it needs to wait in line. I have approximately six unfinished journals currently lying about the apartment, but I can't bring myself to pick one to actually finish any of them because I am OCD about the topics of the journals. 

There's the gratitude journal I started last summer with all of the best intentions of writing daily gratitude lists. There's the idea journal that I use when I want to jot down flashes of brilliance that later generally don't make much sense at all. There's the "taking notes" journal I use when I'm trying to learn things. There's the writing class journal that only gets to come out and play in writing class and has lasted three years now, which probably indicates I should either have started with a smaller journal or should take more writing classes. And then there's the angsty journal that I write in when I'm feeling hurt and/or sad and/or generally bothered (this journal seems to be closer to being finished than any of them, but I think that's more because I'm relatively verbose when the struggle gets real than it is an indication that I am often angsty).

And then I have all of the unstarted journals, like i'm a blank journal collector or something. I should probably have the same rule for journals as I do for clothes -- if I haven't used it in a year, to goodwill it goes, but alas...still I have these journals, these blank pages. And here I sit, not using a journal at all but a web form, and what does that say?

I think it says I need a story-telling journal.

 

Richmond, VA

Jordan lives, works, and (apparently) collects blank journals in the gorgeous city of Richmond. She should stay away from the art store.