NAD (Notebook Addition Disorder)

The Meaning of Life, or I have Nad’s.

In the words of Mark, “The Meaning of Life is defined by Monty Python”. I’ll leave that there. Or the answer to the Universe is 42, that’s according to some Hitchhiker of some sort.

I was looking for a pen at the time. In this house “looking for a Pen,” is one of the easiest things to do, but for some reason I wanted a particular pen. A gold pen, one that oozed a constant stream of golden ink, forming letters across the page with elegance and precision.
I didn’t need to look for the book, I had that. A Paperblanks Flexis Ventaglio Rosso notebook, one of my many notebooks. This one used for when life is just a tad, yukky. It’s a fact, write on good paper with a good pen and you take more care and attention. Write for long enough and the writing gets lopsided, then bends the other way, loses it lush curves for squiggles and sharp edges. Writing in a pretty book with a good pen makes you think more about what and how well you write.
The Flexis is a gift I bought myself along with a Castelli Harris Journal from a company called Stationery & Art ( Mary is a really understanding person and she always sends me such wonderful gifts. However, the last couple of times she has sent me a parcel I must say she has really managed to outdo herself.

My husband knows I’m an addict and also knows that although I love chocolates and flowers I also have an addiction to notebooks. We were on holiday and I was feeling like “Doodoo’s” Mark went on line and ordered me a beautiful Castelli Black and Gold Baroque Journal.

It arrived the day after we got home with a card.

“I will always love you”


It was adorable and I instantly sent a message to Mary saying thank you and that I loved her too.

Being very apologetic we both had a giggle as she had forgotten to put my husband’s name on the card. But that was OK I knew it was from him.

As I’ve said, I’m an addict, I don’t want to be cured. I have NAD’s, Notebook Addiction Disorder. I subscribe to a monthly, or bimonthly depending on where I’m going to be, box of goodies from Spotlight Stationery ( and I have loved every box I have been sent. But sometimes I know I’m not going to be about to receive the box.

“So why don’t you just get it delivered and open it when you get back?”

Because Mark would see it. It’s hard enough having to hide the chocolate in the veggie box in the fridge and the biscuits in the meds locker without having to ask the postwoman to hide my Spotlight Stationery Box under the bushes.

So, when I sent in my order for my two new notebooks an eraser, and a new fountain pen, which I must add has become my favourite pen, who would have figured, I’ve now been converted to writing in blue ink. It’s just so, so, back to school. I politely requested that they be sent in a plain box in case Mark saw them. Luckily I was in and nabbed the box first. Even in a plain box it was obvious what I had bought.

My first Flexis came in a subscription box with the gold pen I use and yesterday I was without a doubt feeling grottier that normal. I set about asking myself the questions that would open the flood gates of a massive brain dumping. It’s a bit like the morning after you’ve had pizza and you have to be ready to go to the toilet. (I’ll just leave that vision with you)

I brain dump.

What, Why, If, Could I, Should I and so on. It’s marvellous, try it. Any feelings of yukkiness spill on to the page and with a pretty book you consciously try to make the answers to the Universe seem nicer. After all paper of that quality deserves some respect.

Having got through six and half pages I sudden realised that I had found it. “The Meaning of Life.”

Not your meaning of life, not Marks, not the metaphysical, psychological, Psychoanalytical, Brain boggling meaning of life that will have us all looking to the stars and shouting “Found it,” and waiting for the space ship to come and get us. No, I found the meaning of life according to NAD.

Having self-diagnosed my condition, found my perfect supplier and confessed my addiction to my husband I can now safely say that the meaning of my life for me is to write.

I’m not a novelist, an author, a BuJo specialist, I have NAD, a Notebook Addicted Disorder, and I am meant to live my life filling beautiful books with the fluid gels, inks and a varied pallet of colour.

I’m am so grateful to Mary and Rob and hope that the Government never find out about NAD and start putting warning notices on the back of notebooks. I can see it now…

This Notebook can seriously alter your life.

Heaven forbid, just think if it catches on, how many apps and computermebobs business would fold (no paper pun intended).

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