Indecision and Essentials

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I went out to purchase school supplies today.

I meandered through the shelves at the local retailer—those burgeoning with the items that seemed to spell August; additionally, they served as a bittersweet reminder that vacation was nearing a close, and home visits would soon be in order—perhaps tomorrow.

Why is it that I seem to get so excited when shopping for school supplies?

I thought about buying a lunchbox today. Really. I was reading another blog early out, and what the author said reminded me of a lunchbox I had when I was a kid…I hadn’t thought about that thing in a score of years. I found myself feeling somewhat sentimental, but passed by the Eclipse, Transformer, and High School Musical lunchboxes without so much as a second glance.

I would not be tempted today. I’d just buy the essentials for school, and then bug out. No sense in making irrational purchases, after all.

I began to dig through spiral-bound notebooks, packages of Crayola markers, and multicolored pencil sharpeners. These were all unceremoniously dumped to the cart as I passed down yet another aisle.

Vividly bright three-ring binders seemed to gently whisper my name as I walked between the towering shelves. Packages of purplish glue sticks beckoned to me—hoping that I would add them to my cart. New scissors and hole punchers glistened from behind their shiny plastic—tantalizing me with their sheen.

I quickened my pace and shut my ears to the call of these items. I reset my resolution button, and passed by these items with an upturned nose. There would be no impulse purchases for me today, thank-you-very-much—only school supplies that were essential.

I moved over to another aisle and noticed the small Mead spiral notebook, the type that can be easily carried in a large pocket, or simply in one’s hand. I glanced at the one I carry with me wherever I go. Its pages were chalk full of blogging ideas, reflections and ruminations of life, and important information I didn’t want to forget.

I’ve already filled three of these things to breaking point, and I began to think about how I was already well on my way to filling up the fourth one. I looked at the shiny, obsidian cover. I took it from the shelf and flipped through the blank pages; a proverbial trove of possibility slid through my questing fingers, just waiting for me to fill it.

I set the notebook down and began to walk away. Before I reached the end of the aisle I stopped. I turned. I picked the notebook back up and looked at it again.

No, I told myself. No purchases of things I didn’t need; just school supplies.
I stood there, my resolve weakening by the moment as I held that little spiral in my hands.

That’s when I thought about Joey. Didn’t I need a place to continue writing his antics and exploits? Didn’t I need a place to write the important events going on at school? Why, wouldn’t this be a great opportunity to get a backup notebook in the event that something happens to the one I have now?

After another second or two of indecision, the scale was tipped and I dropped it into my cart; after all, the notebook was an essential.