The can didn’t land squarely, either, but at an angle. The reinforced rim was the irresistible force meeting the immovable objects of my teeny-weeny toes. More specifically, the metatarsal bones took the hit, those long, delicate, bird-like things atop the foot. My second toe is probably broken and it makes me walk funny, which throws everything else out of line — ankle to spine.
So I sit outside in the sunshine. And I watch. And I think. The sitting is nice, the watching is entertaining, the thinking is very unrewarding. You know the musty smell of an unused furnace firing up for the winter? Well, that’s what I get from thinking, a smelly belch of smoke. However, yesterday I stumbled on a happy discovery: I’m not as scatterbrained as I believed.
What I’d considered random and disjointed may, in fact, be somewhat linear. I just didn’t recognize the connections. Is that possible? The links aren’t obvious, others might not notice them, but I did — and, eventually, after much stretching and reaching, I connected the dots. It was a proud moment.
I have stacks and stacks of stray thoughts scattered everywhere. On receipts and envelopes and torn scraps of paper, stuffed in drawers and backpacks and pants pockets. They’re glimmers, mostly, germs of an idea and some are better than others. Sadly, I tend to lose my trains of thought, so gibberish is all they’ll ever be. But I keep them around, anyway — just in case. Here, look:
» The dish ran away with the spoon
» Letters I’d like to send
» Antarctica vs. the Arctic
» Performance Reviews = Grown-up Report Card Day
» Insider stock tips
» 3M (the Post-It Note people)
» Furniture upholstered in dog fur
The last three were in my cellphone and, believe it or not, constitute the beginning, middle, and end of a possible post. Seriously, they’re all related and comprise the bare bones of a draft I may or may not ever flesh out. My guess is, I won’t. The fun part, the decryption, is over and I’ve lost interest. The rest are single, freestanding notions. But I bet that first one, the dish ran away with the spoon, would’ve been a doozy. I sure wish I knew where I planned to go with it.
Well, until next time, boys and girls, happy thoughts.
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