I have another problem.

Not a serious problem, obviously. Although judging by the number of unused notebooks currently sitting around my house, perhaps we should revisit that statement at some point.

I keep buying stationery.

And by stationery I mean everything. Notebooks, pens, pencils, Post-its, paper clips, highlighters, folders, staplers… basically anything that makes me look and feel like a very organised person for approximately seven minutes.

The notebooks are definitely the worst.

I LOVE buying notebooks. Give me a nice cover, good quality paper, maybe a little elastic band around it and suddenly I need it. I don’t know what I’m going to write in it. I don’t even have anything to write in it. But apparently that doesn’t matter because somewhere in my brain I’ve already decided that this particular notebook is going to be very important to my life.

And the ridiculous thing is that I already have notebooks at home.

Lots of them.

Some are completely empty. Some have three or four pages written in them. Some were bought years ago for a very specific purpose that I clearly cannot remember anymore. And some are so nice that I’ve actually avoided writing in them because I don’t want to “ruin” them.

Please explain that logic to me.

I bought a notebook specifically to write in it, but now I cannot write in it because it’s too nice to write in.

Wonderful.

Very useful purchase, Raulito.

And yet, put me inside a stationery shop tomorrow and apparently all of this information will disappear from my brain.

I’ll see another notebook and think, Ooooh… that’s nice.

And there we go again.

Pens are another one.

How many pens does one adult human being actually need?

Because I’m pretty sure the answer isn’t however many I currently own.

There are pens in drawers. Pens on desks. Pens in bags. Probably pens I haven’t seen since 2019. And somehow I can still stand in front of a display of pens and convince myself that I need another pack because these ones write really smoothly.

Of course they do.

They’re pens.

Then we get into the completely unnecessary territory.

Post-its.

Paper clips.

Highlighters.

Pencils.

Little organisers.

Folders.

Staplers.

STAPLERS.

How much stapling am I doing in my personal life that requires me to be this prepared?

I genuinely couldn’t tell you the last time I urgently needed to staple something, but apparently I like knowing that if a stapling emergency ever occurs, I am READY.

And don’t even get me started on all those cute little stationery things you find near the checkout. That’s where they get you. You didn’t know you needed tiny clips in six different colours until you saw them, and suddenly you’re imagining all the very important documents you’re going to organise with them.

Which documents?

No idea.

But they’ll look fabulous.

The worst part is that I know I’m doing it.

This isn’t even one of those habits I’ve only recently discovered about myself. I have been doing this for YEARS. I can physically see the evidence at home. I can open a drawer and find enough stationery to last me through several careers, and somehow that doesn’t stop me from buying more.

Every once in a while I’ll try to be sensible and tell myself I’m going to use everything I already have before buying anything new.

Excellent plan.

Very mature.

Then I see a notebook I like.

Plan cancelled.

Maybe there’s something about stationery that makes us feel like we’re getting our lives together. A new notebook feels like a fresh start. A new pen makes you want to write something. A pack of Post-its makes you believe that from tomorrow onwards you’re going to be one of those incredibly organised people who remembers everything and has their entire life colour-coded.

Or maybe I’m giving myself far too much credit and I just really like stationery.

That’s probably it.

Either way, I’m putting this out there publicly because after the supermarket situation, and now this, perhaps public accountability is the only thing that can save me.

So if you ever see me standing in a stationery shop holding another notebook, please remind me that I have enough.

Actually…

Take it out of my hands.

I clearly cannot be trusted.

And please tell me it isn’t just me. How many completely unused notebooks are currently sitting somewhere in your house?

Be honest.

This is a safe space.

— Raulito