Somewhere Between Write and Wrong
When I was prepping to move to Syracuse to live with my partner I drove myself bananas trying to downsize, sell off or outright trash everything deemed extraneous. My adherence to Discardia seemed like a fraud because I had so much damn crap. If you’ve moved even once, suddenly you treat every single object like a guest who has overstayed their welcome.
Throughout the downsizing process I kept coming back to my stash of office supply products and questioning whether I really needed to keep all those notebooks and pens. To my credit I did jettison a ton of stuff, by convincing myself I’d just start using my iPhone to manage all of my tasks. Except, I didn’t like using my phone that way.
My tasks are pretty routine and they looked kind of sad displayed on my phone. I mean even listing things like doing laundry or calling a dude about a thing seem all the more thrilling when it involves a stack of quad ruled index cards and fabulous pens. Seeking comfort in blogs (without a trace of irony) about the joys of writing longhand – despite being in solidarity with them – I couldn’t help but think, damn, why do they always have to sound like the people who call Coast to Coast at 2am?
I have to write things down by hand. I trust my hand written to-do lists. I trust that I’ll hold myself accountable for every item listed. With my phone or computer…not so much. I have rolled my eyes and sucked my teeth when my phone announced it was time to go the gym. Yet, when my index cards or planner says the same thing I just sigh and strap on my sneakers. I don’t know why I am like this, but I guess it means I’m never going to be super efficient in a shiny, futuristic way and will always be that girl who stuffs her iPhone into her bra before digging through her purse for a Rhodia notebook and a Lamy Safari pen.