What's with brains, anyhow?
In particular, what's with my brain?
Last night, as I was snuggled up with my sweetheart and drifting off to sleep, I found the perfect line for inclusion in the biography I'm writing. Seriously, it was just exactly right.
I didn't get up and write it down, because of the comfortable snuggling position.
You can probably guess the next part.
Of course you can.
Woke up this morning and I know what the concept behind the quote was, but the perfect wording has completely disappeared. Everything I try to write on the subject goes CLUNK instead of WHIR.
The little man in the upstairs filing room (which is how I think of my brain, often - he scoots around on his office chair to pull things out of the file cabinets) seems to have misplaced that particular scrap of paper.
Perhaps it is time to take a walk, in hopes of rediscovering the line.