Category Notes

I found a folded note tucked under my windshield wiper outside the grocery store, from someone I'll never meet, and it turned into the most interesting five minutes of an otherwise ordinary errand.

My refrigerator door is covered in notes I've written to myself over the years, some useful, some baffling in hindsight. A close look at what these scraps of paper actually reveal about how my mind keeps track of things.

I found a list of goals I wrote for myself back in January, sensible and well organized, and discovered I'd followed almost none of it. Instead of feeling bad about that, I tried to understand what I did instead.

I started paying closer attention on my regular walk around the block and wrote down what I actually noticed each day. Some of it was ordinary, some of it surprised me, and one thing I noticed I still haven't figured out.

A spiral notebook by my landline has caught decades of scribbled numbers and messages, including one from years ago I never had the heart to cross out. A small object that holds more than it should for something so ordinary.

I keep a small notebook where I jot down one line most days. Reading back through everything I wrote in March turned into an unexpected way of reconstructing a month I thought I barely remembered.