Never before has an app struck me as being such a clear indictment of the tapestry of life and all that comes with it as the humble Notes application. It’s housed the random thoughts, to-do-lists, outpourings of heartbreak, restaurant recommendations and things I have to remember through the last decade of my life.
I don’t know when the last time you looked through your own Notes app was, but give it ago if you’re feeling brave. It might dredge up some really painful memories, but could also spark pangs of nostalgia and amusement about whey you felt the need to note down an Oliver Wendell quote in 2015 without any context (couldn’t tell you who the fuck Oliver Wendell is).
Notes has always been the tool I’ve turned to in lieu of a filofax or notepad. I’ve repeatedly tried to be the sort of person who uses a physical diary for my life administrative tasks but I’m hopeless at it. There is no order or structure to any of the pages I use, I tear things out constantly to stick them on my wall, and I have about 5 different notebooks on the go at any one time, defeating the point entirely.
Knowing that I can’t be trusted with an actual moleskin, Black Books-character-wannabe diary, everything I’ve thought important enough to put into writing has existed in my Notes. Trawling through it recently has been a really beautiful reminder of the resiliency of the human spirit.
March 2021 *
Tesco Shopping List:
February 2021
You broke my heart and I have no idea how I’ll survive without you
At some point along the way I started to get creative with the titles of each entry, just as a way of keeping myself amused: All the things potentially making me crazy, Things to do to feel normal, Evidence that he does in fact also like me, etc.
As we’ve already established, writing stuff down helps me digest my thoughts. There was a time where I was incapable of sending a message to someone that put me in an emotionally vulnerable position without first getting feedback from two of my best friends aka the Wicked Witches of West London. I would send screenshots of drafts that sat waiting patiently in my Notes for approval or critique, before sending them to the poor bastard due to receive them.
Hours, even days spent agonising over the yellow words I was constructing in this very unassuming space on my phone! Those drafts are still there today and serve as a reminder that the bad times are (mostly) temporary.
I feel oddly fond of this silly little app, largely because of its honesty. Social media - as we all know - is too curated to be anything close to resembling real life. Notes, on the other hand, are the full unabridged catalogue of our lives, without refinement or editing.
The whiplash in reading two entries side by side, one being a list of things to buy from the pharmacy, the other, a message that was so painful to send you couldn’t get out of bed for three days, is a testament to the continuous passage of time and its healing properties.
Notes is joyful because it’s a witness to life rumbling along, even after the worst of times.
My entries may be more chaotic than the average person’s, so here’s a glimpse as a treat:
Random email addresses that I don’t remember ever needing or who they correspond to
Details for my Airbnb the last time I was in Beirut
A literal shrug emoji
My Police report from when my work laptop got pinched in Covent Garden
Notes from when I thought I had PMDD
An email I sent to a politician who I once sat next to at a wedding
Confrontational messages that I sent to the person who basically catfished (see: Mistakes)
Recipes / restaurants all across London
A shared note with someone I have since blocked
A joke apology for saying Marcus Mumford is hot on Instagram
Details from dreams I half remember
Things that I thought he might like
Renovations I want to make to my flat
Points of discussion to bring up with my therapist
* Examples are approximates (but not that far off)