Often, my Moleskine diary. I dislike that it looks like a Bible. I dislike that when I whip it out in public, people sometimes say, ‘Is that a Bible?!’ incredulously, as though they are surprised I didn’t burst into flames upon touching it.
Lately this diary has been used for nothing remotely exciting, and has mainly been chronicling the amount of words of essays I should have written, to date, and the amount I have written, which is often embarrassingly lower. Then it has deadlines, job deadlines, internship deadlines, writing competition deadlines. On the odd week when I’m trying to tighten my purse-strings, or sometimes out of curiosity, I will write down what I spend each day. This can be pretty depressing when I find out that I can drop a tenner a week on cans of Diet Coke and the odd Alpen bar to get me through a library session. It’s only later in the year that my diary starts telling the story of a life lived well – graduation, friend’s birthdays, a trip to Italy.
Other things I don’t tend to leave the house without tend to be the usual: keys, phone, some kind of money/bank card, usually a pen, bottle of water, lip balm.