You know how you think of stuff to write when you are nowhere near a computer? I decided to remedy this by jotting down random thoughts in a journal that I would keep on hand. Of course, it wouldn’t be just any journal, it had to meet certain criteria:

• it had to be small enough to fit in whichever purse I was currently using;
• it had to have lined sheets;
• it had to stay closed somehow, like with an elastic band or magnetic closure;
• it had to be reasonably priced;
• it had to have either some sort of pretty pattern or appealing colour; and
• it had to inspire me.

You would certainly think I could find something like that at Chapters, especially after perusing every single journal/notebook they had for almost 40 minutes. But no. No, every one I picked up was missing one crucial element. The right size was the wrong colour. The right colour didn’t close. The one that closed had blank sheets. You get the picture. I’m picky beyond belief. So I went into Starbucks instead and bought a grande, extra-hot, skinny cinnamon dolce latte. And of course like an idiot I had to make sure it was extra hot by taking a little sip. Believe me, even the tiniest sip can give you an excellent idea of the temperature. Yep, it was fucking hot.  So my day ended with no journal and a burnt tongue. I’ll try another location tomorrow and maybe go with the frappuccino.