Today, there was a large, red-suited Santa Clause in the student center. I smiled at him and then went to Starbucks. I got myself a chai tea and him a hot chocolate. Pathetically, I then was too shy to give it to him and brought it to IM instead. She probably deserves it more, anyway.
Seeing Santa made me think about what I want for Christmas.
I have somehow developed an instant reward reaction to blank journals. Anytime I see one, I get a rush. I’m thinking of asking my mom or Mumsey for this logbook, like Austin Kleon has.
Why do I have such a strong reaction towards blank notebooks? There is no other material objects that I have such a desire for (except maybe books). I started this side blog awhile ago in homage to my journaling obsession.
I think my journaling habits stem from my love of the blank page and my fear of forgetting my own life. A clean, white sheet of paper has always been thrilling to me. It has unlimited potential, just like we did, P, before we came to college and realized we were not going to go through our entire academic careers without making a B. That’s what journals represent to me: a chance to reinvent my own life. It’s not that I’m at all unhappy with my current life; it’s more that the unknown is more exciting.
In conclusion, what I want for Christmas is a chance at a new start and an archive for all the fun I have had already. I am grateful for this blog in providing the latter and I will struggle to convince myself that only I can provide myself the former. No blank notebook needed.
Loads of love,