The deadline is here. This essay needs to be written.

Now.

I head over to the cabinet where I keep my writing supplies. The tall stack of loose paper and bound notebooks stands ready, as if awaiting my arrival.

I choose a green composition book and open it to the first page. Hey, I remember this! This was the start of the 2018 bullet journal. I made the table of contents, the calendar, wrote daily entries for a few days and then put it back in the cabinet, probably in a cleaning blitz when we were expecting guests. Out of sight, out of mind. Well, I can’t use that one, but maybe someday I’ll get back to the bullet journal.

Putting it back, I pull the brown leather journal that was a Christmas gift from my dear friends, Betsy and Bob, way back around 2010. We enjoyed many discussions about natural philosophy, science, and theology and I intended to use this beautiful journal to write deep and thoughtful reflections on what we called “the important things.” It is blank. I guess it will remain so, for today’s feeble efforts do not warrant such an elegant book.

I also have several lovely bound journals that I purchased while traveling, but they also cry out for serious writing, not the wild ramblings of my shitty first drafts. I need something less special.

I find an old spiral ring notebook but decide against it because I don’t like the feel of the wire spiral on my hand. The loose paper seems too disorganized—I want my thoughts tied together, if only symbolically.

The red composition book with the grids? No, I started mapping out our herb garden in that one. True, the garden has been established for many years now, but still, this notebook doesn’t seem right. I consider each of the notebooks and journals in my cabinet but decide against each one.

No worries. I need to go grocery shopping anyway; I’ll just stop at Staples and find the perfect book when I am out.

What kind of pen should I use today? Rollerball? Gel? Fine point? My kids are advocates of the superfine point, but I like a little heft to my words. What color? I have red, blue, purple, green, teal, orange, brown, turquoise and, of course, black. On the other hand, a pencil allows for tidy revisions, which seem necessary today, so I think I’ll go with medium point mechanical pencil. I find one and insert a fresh eraser.

I really wish I had kept some notes over the last few weeks. How many times did I think, “Hey, that is a great idea for an essay! I should make a note.” I don’t know how many times I had that thought, but I do know exactly how many times I followed up on it. Zero. So, now I will be faced with blank paper, blank mind. I really need to write these things down.

Maybe when I go to Staples, I’ll buy second notebook– a small one to keep in my purse so I can jot down ideas when I am out and about. I have a small notebook with an image of Tolkien’s Middle Earth, but my friend brought it back for me from Oxford and it seems too special to stuff in my purse. No problem– I’ll get a new one. Really, I need more than one–I should have one in my purse, one by my nightstand, and maybe one by each of my favorite reading chairs. Let’s see, six should be enough. Different colors of course, so I can tell them apart. I wonder if the ideas that I have depend on where I am and what I am doing. You know, that could be the subject of an essay— “How do our immediate surroundings affect our thoughts?” I should write that down. Of course, I’ll need to be sure that there are pencils and pens to go with each location, maybe color-coordinated with the notebooks.

I better make a list, so I don’t forget anything.

I am making great progress. I have a plan. After I walk the dog, make a grocery list, finish the novel I started last night, move the wet laundry to the dryer, I will go to the grocery store and Staples. After preparing and eating dinner, I will write my essay.

See? I am almost done!

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