Wouldn't you know it...

When I painted for a living, I would get epiphanies while I worked and have to stop to write them down before I forgot them, like writing down a dream in the moment of waking before the reality of the day sets in. Sometimes, I actually wrote them on the wall with the paintbrush so I wouldn't have to stop working, then work the letters into the design later after I had written them down on actual paper. For a long time there, when I walked through my life like a zombie but my writing was going well, I had to keep a pad of paper and a pen with me everywhere I went because the ideas would flow like so much water. Many times, I would have to pull off the side of the road to write snippets down, sometimes 5 or 6 times in a 10 mile drive to town. There is something about doing mindless, repetitive movement that frees the mind to concentrate on the larger consciousness.

So there I was at work today, organizing the Science MAnipulatives room in relative quiet, and I let my mind wander. It's been a while since I have done this, since I don't have many moments of relative quiet anymore, so I wasn't really thinking of anything specific, which is the perfect environment for my best ideas to grow in. I curled my fingers around an idea and formulated a really good sentence and thought "Boy, that would make a great blog post."

The only problem is, I forgot just how sieve-like my brain is now and, a minute or two later, someone came into my office asking me questions and by the time they left, I had almost (but not quite) forgotten that I had even had an idea.

The worst thing is that I remember that I had a great idea ... I just don't remember what it was.

Frackin' torture, I tell you.

Oh well, I'll go do dishes and it'll come back ... and by the time I dry my hands and get back here, it'll be gone again. I wish I could say this is a sign of genius but I'm afraid it's just age.

UPDATE :: GAH!!! Just remembered what it was, something about my children and what they have missed over the past 6 or 7 or 8 years. Brought on by a discussion the other night about them getting to do things they don't often do. How I feel as though, while doing the right thing, I haven't done enough. There, my note for later. *whew* Now I can go to work and not worry that it would hit me in the middle of my 1st grade class.