My once mighty notebook - a “Moleskine” no less - seems to have been reduced to a container of drivel. A real-world twitter account. Notes in passing. There was a time when it - or its ancestors - carried deep thoughts, observations, drawings, and various other brain dumpage.
I’m not sure if I should be concerned or not. Perhaps the more important thing is that I have the notebook, and that I’m at least recording something in it from time to time.