I wish the story could have been more heroic: a drowning child in a canal, tiny cries unheard by all others until I happened to notice, so I leap in without any other thoughts, Moleskine in my bag. Or even a more romantic
location: sitting by the Seine in Paris at a tiny café, watching the women walk by, and quietly gratified when the waiter turns his head to watch the particularly attractive woman walk in, unaware she is my wife… and he
catches his hip on my table in his turn. The coffee cup rocks in its saucer, dark liquid spreading out over my opened planner.
But no, my wife and I were sitting in McDonalds, I had just finished my daily review, and I was bouncing a rolled up napkin off the wall, trying to land it in the tray. One miss, two misses, and a grab that knocked over a large cup of iced coffee that instantly flooded the table. Black liquid rushed around and over my neatly arranged stacks of 3×5 cards, and — horror of horrors — my life bound in black, my Moleskine planner.
We went home and spread everything out on the bed. I used a hair drier on the planner and some of the more important documents (hand charted graphs, tickets to a recent concert I had yet to glue in). So now I sit and wait for them to dry, wondering how the rest of you have accidentally "given excess character" to your journals and planners.
Evan "JabberWokky" Edwards
Photo: Ed Bilodeau
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