Notes on a Napkin
It's a bad habit, I know, this tendency to scribble on whatever is at hand. Usually, it works. The scraps discovered, assembled, copied. The ideas, such as they are, saved.
But today I'm bereft. The napkin I used on the long trek through the mountains Monday, all the ideas I had while driving, gone.
There's one more place I can look, one more dark corner. I dig and search and ... success. Found it.
I unfold the napkin, examine the squiggles. Yes, there are ideas on this napkin. Two of them I've already used in posts. The others, hmmm — they're not as brilliant as they first appeared.
Next time I'll keep my eyes on the road.
But today I'm bereft. The napkin I used on the long trek through the mountains Monday, all the ideas I had while driving, gone.
There's one more place I can look, one more dark corner. I dig and search and ... success. Found it.
I unfold the napkin, examine the squiggles. Yes, there are ideas on this napkin. Two of them I've already used in posts. The others, hmmm — they're not as brilliant as they first appeared.
Next time I'll keep my eyes on the road.
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