If life is standing on a hill in a blustery gale then the majority of humanity holds their “stuff” together in a sturdy 3-ring binder.
Some have to fashion a spiral notebook out of chicken wire to keep their issues from flying away from them.
A few get nothing but a staple. Doable but tenuous.
I seem to have been blessed with only a paper clip. The old kind. A short, screwy piece of metal wrapped around itself in an absurd manner.