I have 21 little notebooks on my mantleshelf

I think only one of them has been written in, but I can't stop buying them. Then I just look at them and kind of covet them, despite the fact I actually own them. I'm a little obsessed. I have a 'cupboard' upstairs (in a desk organiser, not a proper cupboard size cupboard) also full of the things, and yet I buy them still.

They are all beautiful in their own right, which I think is the problem as they are too pretty for me to think about despoiling. My handwriting is not the best and I keep thinking I should wait until I have something "special" to put in them. Which means they sit unused and I pine for them.

Mother (who came down to tend to my invalidid self today) commented on these in a wry way (knowing that she buys them for me too, because she can guarantee I'll be pleased with them.)

I need to change my way of thinking and use them willy nilly, jotting random, scruffy things. Either that or become inspired and faultless. I know which is more likely.