Everything started off innocently enough. I was in a stationary store and saw a pink and magenta sequin fabric notebook. I was riveted by its attention-seeking appearance and how much it was targeted towards women and I had a gut feeling it would be the catalyst to reinvigorate my writing process. I’m a writer but I actually hate the act of writing because I get bored easily. I thought having a fun, shiny notebook would help invoke my feminine writer goddess, but instead all I can do is touch it.
So this morning when I woke up to write, instead of working on my epic novel about flying cupcakes that attack the earth, I literally couldn’t stop stroking my notebook. At one point I traced my name in it and that made me feel so special–like it was my name, not anyone else’s! When I tried to find the words to describe how it feels to be attacked by a giant cupcake, I couldn’t because at just that moment the sun rose up outside my window and hit my notebook in just the cutest way and then I needed to Instagram that moment which took about a half hour cause I like to make sure my captions are beautifully crafted.
I really thought spending $100 on a whimsical notebook would be the new start I needed, but now I feel like maybe I should return it. But the problem is that the notebook does make me feel seen–it’s colorful and distracting and the more I play with it the more I realize maybe I shouldn’t write anymore, maybe I should do something more fun like design notebooks or be a supermodel.
I think I was supposed to go to my sister’s engagement party a few hours ago but I can’t really keep track of time because of this sparkly notebook. Or maybe I just feel weird because when I touch it the color changes. Life is so magical sometimes! I think my sister will get over it–I think women get the effect of a girly notebook on one’s soul. Who knows, maybe real writers don’t get distracted by special girly mermaid scale-y notebooks and this all has been a sign…