Meet Me in the Notes App
“What’s the oldest note in your phone?” my younger sister asked, in the same tone one might use to share gossip. She was explaining what she called “notes app digest,” rereading notes like a kind of personal magazine of one’s own insight and nonsense.I immediately scrolled. For better or worse, my notes app is the piece of technology closest to looking like the inside of my brain: a bit chaotic, annoyingly detail-oriented, and perhaps perpetually nostalgic.
- ▪“What’s the oldest note in your phone?” my younger sister asked, in the same tone one might use to share gossip.
- ▪She was explaining what she called “notes app digest,” rereading notes like a kind of personal magazine of one’s own insight and nonsense.I immediately scrolled.
- ▪For better or worse, my notes app is the piece of technology closest to looking like the inside of my brain: a bit chaotic, annoyingly detail-oriented, and perhaps perpetually nostalgic.
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“What’s the oldest note in your phone?” my younger sister asked, in the same tone one might use to share gossip. She was explaining what she called “notes app digest,” rereading notes like a kind of personal magazine of one’s own insight and nonsense.I immediately scrolled. For better or worse, my notes app is the piece of technology closest to looking like the inside of my brain: a bit chaotic, annoyingly detail-oriented, and perhaps perpetually nostalgic. While handwritten to-do lists hold my life together, my notes app contains the catch-all, the weird (one that simply says “possum”), and the important (a list of people’s birthdays) coexisting. Somehow, the mess of my notes resists all forms of optimization, or even coherence.
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