I have what you might call, a problem. It involves these:

And my inexplicable need to collect them.

Hello, my name is Justina and I can’t stop hoarding notebooks. There’s something so satisfying about holding a fresh, brand-new spiral-bound notebook in your hands. The potential it holds is so intoxicating. I love the thought of knowing that I’ll always have one handy to make lists or jot down brainstorming ideas or have a place to put down a random thought or interesting tidbit that I want to remember.

Many would argue that jotting things down on my phone or computer could give me the same satisfaction, but there’s really nothing like old-fashioned pen and paper and actually writing something down. For me, it helps me commit something to memory if I have to sit there and think of each word before I put it down in ink. It’s a more thoughtful process when you don’t have the convenience of a delete key to correct your mistakes.

Nothing gives me more pleasure than being able to go back and flip through each wrinkly used page to see what thoughts I had on a particular day. It’s a sickness, I’m telling you.

I’m going to have to remember this post for my NHA (Notebook Hoarders Anonymous) meetings. If only I had someplace to make a list…