Houston, We Have A Problem

Well, I have a problem, at least.  I'm addicted to writing implements.  Ever since I was a kid, I've collected journals, notebooks, pens and the like.  Funny thing is, once I buy them, I don't want to use them.  I have so many books with just a few pages --if any-- written in them.  Yet I am constantly buying more.  They are my crack.

I've barely begun writing in my fake leather journal with the ribbon marker that I bought last July, when what did I spy at Wal-Mart last evening. 

And I just had to have it. I didn't care that I had stacks and stacks of notebook/journals. I didn't care how much it cost. I had to have it. So, it came home with me. I still haven't even taken the paper band off of it, but it's mine, mine I tell you! Mine!!  My own.  My Precious....

And of course, I had to buy some new pens worthy of a fake leather journal with a magnetic clasp.

Even though I have packs and packs of pens that I haven't even opened yet.  I think I have a problem...

But before I check myself into journal addiction rehab, let me show you what else I bought.

Wait, what? How did that picture get in there? Shhh, nobody was supposed to see those.

Ahem...

Isn't this just the cutest thing?  It's supposed to be an Easter basket.  

So, naturally, I had to find appropriate eggs to go in it.

And the ever traditional Easter classic, Peeps.

My mammaw always bought us Peeps at Easter, and though I don't really like them, I always ate them. Mammaw has been gone for long years now, but every Easter, I buy at least one package of Peeps, because they make me think of her.

Besides, they do cool things when you put them in the microwave...