I don't know much about sticky notes

Every day at least one person winds up on this blog because they've googled the words "sticky notes on my dashboard." I thought it was because of one post. The name of the post? Sticky notes on my dashboard.

If you have a Mac, I suggest you go here to find out about the latest sticky notes on your dashboard. In spite of my post about the subject, I don't know much. I don't even use a Mac these days. Now that I've visited that link, I'm even more miserable sitting here typing on this aesthetically miserable PC.*

I wrote that post back on March 23rd of this year. It was my fourth post. In a way, those sticky notes on my dashboard were the impetus for this blog. I had so many of them that it was becoming a problem. Many were thoughts about a new scent and I had green notes for colognes and all things light and airy, gray for incense, pink for floral and so on. The yellow notes were for ideas about whatever was on my mind at the time, mostly snippets about translating poetry and the vagaries of language.

I had had other blogs, a website for my tat business, and a myspace page where I mostly wrote about music and tattoos, but I never kept up with any of these for long. In spite of all conventional wisdom, I decided that I just had to be who I am and put it out there. I'm a generalist, a dilletante, a jack-of-all trades and master of a few, and someone who flits from one interest to another.

And lastly, I had this crazy idea that being interested in everything was some kind of remedy for depression. I think it is, though my life hasn't proved that to be entirely true. Yet, without this crazy desire to find out more, to continually explore and learn, I am not entirely sure I would have survived. No matter how depressed I've been, if there was a good book to finish, I'd have to read it, even if the demons of depression were screaming at me that life was not worth living. If I had some knitting to do, how could I leave it?

There might be new perfumes in my mailbox on Monday or a moment of pure bliss on the cushion while meditating. There have been days, weeks and even months when the weight of abject misery was crushing and rendered me useless, but still, I was always easily distracted, in a good way.

Driving in my car to see a therapist, lost in delusions and desperate for some relief, I saw a flock of snow buntings, hundreds of them, swirling over a barren field, raising and falling as one undulating mass. Who could be miserable in the face of such beauty? One eye was always open to these things, thankfully.

So, sticky notes, well. . .if you've landed here and wanted to find out about them, I presume you've gone already. And too bad, for both of us, for the other thing that is interesting is stumbling onto new things and starting a conversation with a stranger. Speaking of which, can't you silent people lurkers leave a few comments? Do you need a bribe of some sort? I may be late with the gifts I already owe, but I still have one slot left for a free gift! Speak up!

*I will certainly offend someone by saying that I abhor that little dog who shows up to find my files. Not only is he not cute, but he does a very poor job of finding files. Just this evening I showed this to Dick and he said, "Isn't there some way to turn him off?"

Photo note: Check out the things people have done with post-it notes here.