The singing secretary

First day of September and it’s a beauty. We have had a slow-as-cold-running-molasses start to the day due to lingering sickness and jetlag but after I have dyed my hair (my roots are such a boring ash brown now; I mourn my teenaged natural highlights) we are walking down to Clement for a bit of time at Green Apple, best bookshop in the Western World, and at Office Depot. I have a weird fascination for stationery shops. From the time I was about seven or eight, in the days when I dreamed of becoming a singing secretary named Linda or Stephanie, I have loved paper and paperclips, staplers and glue pots, stickers and post its, and notebooks and pencil holders, and all that jazz. I think it’s because all that fresh blankness speaks of promise. Well, that’s why I like stationery stores now. When I was seven or eight it was the pleasure of playing with paper and scissors and such, especially brand new ones. I am hoping to buy a board I can use to do some plotting for my newest project. Tee hee.