The Sticky Note
The sticky, on the note, isn’t as good now as it once was. In the early days, I could wear one on my jacket lapel all day long. “Buy milk,” it might read or “Pick up (insert daughter’s name) after school”. I forgot to pick her up once, drove home and realized my mistake. I tagged myself for a while after that. My colleague didn’t trust the stickiness of the adhesive and would staple her note to a purse handle: Milk, bread, lettuce.
Long ago, I kept a pad of sticky notes in my bedside drawer. I would write down things that haunted my brain, like things I needed to do. An empty brain sleeps better. I also used them to jot down solutions to problems at work and story ideas that popped into my head, during the night. In the morning, I would find sticky notes stuck all over the place. Sometimes the sticky note was still on the pad, lying beside me in bed, pen wedged under my body. I’ve also been known to plaster my bathroom mirror with notes reminding me of things I need to remember. Who needs to put on makeup, right? I DO! Trust me.
At work one day, my desk was covered in sticky notes. I could not find what I needed. My sticky note system had a breakdown. I reevaluated my usage and changed things up. Today, I text or email myself reminders. I make check off lists in a document to print or not. I use a bullet journal. I also use people (way too often) to remind me of things. Those who know me well just stare at me, neither denying nor accepting the task. I see their eyes twitching to roll at me but they don't.
I still use sticky notes and get excited when people gift me with them. I love mostly the yellow ones. I often use them as bookmarks in real books. However, they no longer get to direct my life on a regular basis.
Read about Post-Its . You will also read about a stickier glue on some of the newer version notes.