The notebook

I recently lost an A4 (letter size) notebook.  It had a black cover and was spiral bound with blank thick cartridge pages.  Losing this notebook gave me a tight feeling in my chest.  I started using it at the beginning of the year, a time when I was trying to get my head around all that I had to do.  I used it to write notes for school, plan my weekly schedules, and write 'to do' lists.  As well as my weekly reminders, I had written three important lists in it: 'to do before I finish my study', 'to do with my parents' and 'to do post-study'.  I found the notebook today, six weeks later, having completed all those deadlines and had the visit from my parents.  Annoyingly it was exactly where I had expected it to be but my eye must have glanced over it in my  searching.  

I have a sense of relief in finding it, as though the notebook keeps me together in one piece and I'll be able to accomplish more because of it.  I don't know if I've alluded to the feeling I have about my sudden freedom.  I've had this freedom before - where I was a housewife, with nothing much going on.  It didn't turn out so well.  My self-esteem was crippled by being purposeless and I wasn't happy.  With nothing much to do and in cold weather, it can be difficult to get out of bed.  It can also be difficult to stay out of bed once you've gotten up.  After all, what is there to do out of bed?  Tasks which can feel important or unimportant depending on the sun.    

I have been known to enjoy this strange, unexpected life through accomplishing small daily purposes.  Staying in bed is the worst possible remedy.  So my notebook, my lists, and having a schedule are important to me.  They keep me going, keep me sane, and keep me accomplishing.  They all amount to getting Jbird through these degrees, loving him, and not resenting him for bringing me here.  Right now I'm also riding on a bigger accomplishment of my own: finishing a degree I had left partially completed for nearly a decade.