It is the first day after my vacation. The morning looks something like this: five hours of reading emails and realizing that the expiration date of the question or invitation has long passed, drinking coffee and receiving accusations that I deliberately wore something white (which is true) and making plans. Nothing wrong with planning, because that clears my head, but after the vacation I want to do that in a fresh notebook. I can hardly think of anything as satisfying as writing my name, email address, and phone number on the first page. Hoping that it doesn't bleed through, doesn't stain, and that I don't have to scratch it out, because then I immediately want a new one. This year I'm starting with a Dior, in red and with illustrations that brush against perfection. And if you calculate the cost per use, it's a bargain.