Today I was at the grocery store and I found myself lovingly placing a discounted pack of loose leaf paper in my shopping cart.
It was 49 cents and that’s a small price to pay for the happiness I get from a fresh new pack of loose leaf paper.
There is something about a fresh, new package of looseleaf paper that makes me SO HAPPY. The paper is clean and white. When I write on the top sheet, with a good pen – Pilot Easy Touch Fine Point, for example – it feels so good.
I have always loved the physical act of handwriting. I, somewhat vainly, have always loved my own handwriting. I started journaling in elementary school, and then leveled up in college, when I started to carry a journal with me everywhere I went in case I had a thought I needed to chronicle on the spot.
Of course, times change. I don’t need a journal to chronicle my thoughts. My phone is always close by, usually actually in my pocket, and I can (and do) write an idea for a blog post quickly and easily at any moment.
In fact, I might be even more nostalgic for looseleaf these days because I recently abandoned my paper planner in favor of using a combination of my bullet journal and the Google calendar on my phone. I’ve always loved having a planner – picking out a new planner has always been a major treat to me – but it just doesn’t feel practical anymore. The bullet journal is way more flexible for my day-to-day planning needs, and for big picture things, like weddings/play dates/writing groups, using Google calendar makes so much more sense.
But it still makes me sad.
I will soothe my soul by drafting an essay on my new looseleaf paper.