Trying something new today. Preparing the daily note on my phone. Because I’m worn out and need an early night, which won’t happen if I wait till 10pm tonight to lift the laptop lid. Also, this tests my two thumb dexterity. Let’s call it a form of communications in-service.

Early adopter

I’m using the phone because I left my trusty notebook at home.
I’ve become strangely attached to my notebook. Strange because I love technology and have adopted most forms of virtual diary and jotter as soon as they hit the store.
My Palm Pilot steered me through the 90s and I still use all the features on Outlook.
I have a desktop, a laptop, an iPad and iPhone and use them all every day.
I make notes and save research using OneNote so I can find things from all of my devices.
But despite surrounding myself with this technology and storing my life in the cloud, things still get messy. I miss appointments, lose addresses, forget if I’ve paid a bill.
And that’s just the functional side of things.
As a reborn creative I crave putting pen to paper now. It’s true what they say, it loosens the tongue. Words flow differently.
Over the past few months my notebook and mirrorless camera have become permanent fixtures in my handbag. A perfect morning for me involves a flat white, the paper and a pen.
I’ve listened to my writing mentors, writing down observations and snippets of dialogue when I hear something I like.
I practise description, a skill I struggle with, and try desperately to write free form, letting words just float on an ink tide and seeing where they take me. For a constant editor like me, who can’t text without reviewing and tweaking, that’s a challenge.
So at times like these, when I’m sitting quietly in a corner of a Pilates studio while the Ballerina works on her core, I would like to be scribbling a few bon mots in my navy leather compendium.
The book is the perfect size for me, A5. And it comes with dividers. I have sections devoted to the creative me, the number-crunching me and the committee-member me. (Yes. I’m a Virgo.)
Where once I’d scour online bank records when a disconnection notice arrived in the mail, now I simply scan the business section in my notebook to confirm the phone bill is, in fact, unpaid.
But I left my special book at home. So here I sit, two thumbs tapping furiously, wondering if I can export this directly from my smartphone to a Daily Note or if I’ll have to re-type it at 10 o’clock tonight?
I’ll let you know.

For the record

It’s after 10 but I’m nearly done, so the two-thumb tap dance on my phone this afternoon paid off. I might get a decent night’s sleep.
The hip still aches but regular drugs are helping. Hope it goes away soon.
Yesterday’s note about a difficult day was well received. I’m glad. I took a risk, sharing someone else’s story. I’m pleased many more people have now been touched by baby Camryn’s life.
Angela Bensted Bw 1x1
Angela Bensted is a Brisbane-based freelance writer who likes to listen first and struggle with syntax later. She pitches stories to magazines and helps businesses produce compelling copy for print and online.
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