Yesterday I bought a notebook. I am keeping a journal of my work. Hours, ideas, goals, that sort of shit. Also travel, for tax purposes.
It's nice -- black, with a strap. A Moleskine knockoff that my campus bookstore sold, made with recycled paper.
I love beautiful notebooks, in the same way that I loved buying school supplies when I was a child. A blank, crisp notebook represents promise and infinite possibility. But I get lazy about keeping them up. Still, all but one of the plants I purchased over a month ago are alive and actually beginning to flourish. So if this is the year that I keep the plants alive, maybe it will also be the year that I keep the journal thing going, too. Possibility fulfilled, maybe.