Yes it is true, I love notebooks. I mean L.O.V.E.
I buy them because I like the size.
I buy them because I like the shape.
I buy them because of the cover.
I buy them because of the style.
I buy them because of the paper.
I but them because of the quality.
I buy them even when the quality is not so great.
I buy them because of the way they feel.
I buy them at full prize.
I buy them on sale. Especially when they are on sale!
I buy them for my children.
I buy them for gifts.
I buy one every time I go on vacation. (from the vacation spot)
I buy them when I’m just about done with the one I’m using.
I buy them when I don’t need them.
I just buy them.
Help! I keep buying notebooks and I can’t stop!
That’s a total of 32 blank and ready to use notebooks/journals.
From Part 2:
My journal/diary, paper and pen obsession began as a child. I loved to write in my little lock and key diaries, collect pencils with cute pictures on them and my name printed on the side. I also loved those cute little erasers and would have them all lined up on my desk. Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m OCD. I’ve admitted this already people!I would sit at my desk or lay on a blanket in the back yard, pull out my little diaries and write and write. However I was always embarrassed or ashamed of the words on those pages. I would tear them out and discard them. Oh how I wish I had kept them now. I can’t remember anything I wrote, although I’d love to know what it was I felt compelled to put down on paper when I was a child and why did I feel so fearful of keeping those pages? Funny, the negative feelings remain – the need to remove my voice from those pages but not the positive – what thoughts I put down on paper….
As I have come to learn these many years, years of happiness, sadness, loss, and gratitude, my journals are for me. I put my thoughts, feelings, aspirations, fears, and hopes within those pages. I will never destroy my journals nor will I willingly give them to the kids to read or anyone for that matter. I will keep them private until my death or until I’m so old I don’t care what people read or think about me any more. But for now, my words are mine and no one else’s.I may have begun my journals out of hope that my future children would get to know the real me, but through time I’ve come to acknowledge that those books are truly for me and only me.As promised here are my finished journals. The books are numbered in the order I have written in them. The first entry dated 1996; the last 2011.
See the original posts for more photos and details about each journal.
Great collection, Shelley! Thanks for sharing your addiction with all of us!