I knew I should have written it down. I should have made a mental (or physical) note of what I was doing, suspended that thought process for a moment or two and scribbled down the idea before resuming task one.
Now I'm left with a nagging sense that it was a Great Idea. One of the best. And now it's gone.
Two ideas came at the same time, you see, and I was flummoxed. Like waiting for ages and ages at a bus stop (in the rain) and then two buses come at once. As I clamber on the first, fumbling for my bus pass, the second sails on by. I will never know what it might have been like to ride on that bus; who I might have met, what I might have seen - because I got on the first one.
That's what happened to me this morning.
Can't think why I didn't make a note. I am such a note-writer that my desk, every handbag I own, the kitchen counter and bedside drawer all house multiple notebooks. I have scraps of paper all over the place. I keep a notepad by my bed and several nights a week I attempt to capture something that comes to me in the hours of darkness; a dream, an idea, a snatch of dialogue, or some vague and random thought that I don't want to let go of.
Very often my nocturnal scrawling are illegible come the clear light of day; whatever it was that was burning in my brain did not translate well to my hand. Of the messages I could read, however, I have captured some remarkable insights in my night time notebook. Consider the possibilities of the following:
'The lard in the bushes is too eggy. But THIS WILL BE ALRIGHT. It will be ALRIGHT.'or:
'Try putting ALL of them in.'Alternatively, this could be a fascinating story prompt:
'He asks her, and she just stares at him. It was too late.'No idea who he is, or who she is, or what he asked her, but the drama of those two sentences. Breaks your heart, doesn't it?
For sheer frustration value, I can't beat the following:
'THIS IS IT! THIS IS DEFINITELY IT.'What?! What?! I really need to know..... Or then there's the terror of waking to find this written large on the notepad next to you:
"Don't do it."On a lighter note, my husband once told me that I stirred as he came to bed after watching a late film. Without waking completely, I grasped his hand and said with some urgency:
'The blue ones. You've got to watch the blue ones.'He wrote that one down, after he'd finished laughing.
Then there are the myriad of notes that I can't read. Excerpts include (and this is just what they look like - could be accurate, knowing my propensity to scrawl things that make no sense):
'Lemons. All of them used to be fussy lemons but now they're aggressive, unpleasant.'
'Get your act together.'Yes indeed.
My absolute favourite, however, is the time I awoke and reached for the notepad, and wrote the following:
'No worries.'I even underlined it, and added a smiley face. It was clearly discernible as a smiley face, even though the eyes were slightly offset in a cubist kind of way.
'No worries. :-)'I like to think that one was from God.