I carry little books around with me and fill them with my musings. By musings I mean to do lists, ideas for papers, grocery lists, lists of things I want, lists of things I need, lists of ideas for birthday gifts, lists of places I want to go, lists of things I want to write about on here, etc. There's absolutely nothing interesting in there. Despite this fact, I have an anxiety attack anytime someone tries to read through it. This is why my boyfriend has dubbed it the book of secrets. I tried really hard a couple times to let him look at it but failed because he could tell how uncomfortable I was. This makes me crazy, I realize. There isn't anything I can do about it though, so I'll just have to accept the crazy label and move on.
Both books have french words all over them. This makes me cool and romantic.
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