I thought of something last night. It was so brilliant and funny and wonderful, but the thought came to me as I was nestled in my warm bed, my head snuggled into my soft pillow, and I thought to myself, Nah, I don't need to write this down because there is no way I will forget this, even though I kind of knew, deep down, I would forget.
It was probably the most fantastic plot development ever for my book, or maybe the cure for cancer.
I went to sleep thinking about blueberries, not pineapple and baseboard paint photo collage bookcase typewriter cabinet curtains air-conditioning electrician book.
Thoughts become so weird as you're falling asleep, that if you are awakened from that half-sleep state you'll realize, I was just having this weird thought/dream about a ketchup bicycle. It seemed so delicious at the time.
Since I don't work at a "real" job any more, every night I dream about my old job. Don't ask me why; I'm apparently still anxious about it. It's almost time to fertilize the trees, I remember thinking. Check the budget.
Part of me believes I was about a month away from going completely ballistic at that job. Nothing out of the norm was happening. It was the same stuff, every day. Part of me wonders if I would have had a nervous breakdown, anyway, and would have been fired.
I read a book recently that said the term nervous breakdown is just what they used to call depression.
On today's agenda: Try try try to remember brilliant half-sleep thought and hope it wasn't ketchup bicycle. Continue outlining. Yoga. Namaste.