delusions

This is around the time of month when I start thinking about what I’m going to write for Storytellers Unplugged (I post on the 20th of each month). I always tell myself that I will write my essay ahead of time, in a leisurely and enjoyable fashion, but this never happens; something about this whole ‘assignment’ makes me regress to student days, when I made putting-things-off-until-last-possible-moment-and-then-cramming-like-mad my way of life. (Of course, those were the days when I could pull all-nighters-and-beyond on nothing but caffeine and sugar and then stagger into the room still coherent enough to ace an exam. Ah, sweet bird of youth.)

The other night, while I was brushing my teeth, the entire essay just came to me. Between brushing and rinsing I had it all mapped out in my head. I felt brilliant. Of course I didn’t jot any of it down. And now, for the life of me, I can’t even remember the general theme of what I was plotting, much less the connecting details.

But I was never the type to jolt awake in the middle of the night, screaming “Eureka! I am Inspired!” while reaching for the notebook I keep so conveniently by my bedside. First, I am not nearly so organized. Second, I tend to agree with whoever pointed out, If you can’t remember it in the morning, no great loss, chances are it just wasn’t that good an idea to begin with. The undermind is constantly sifting through stuff, evaluating stuff, discarding certain ideas while cultivating others. I figure it knows what it’s doing.

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