I really, really need to start keeping a notebook right next to me when I go to bed. It wouldn't be terribly hard at all. After all, my desk is right next to my bed. It's there, because that's where it fits. There's a semi-permanent bruise on my left leg to prove my desk's location. (Really, it's kind of pitiful. I mean, I know my depth perception is abysmal, but it's kind of silly to keep running into the same edge of the desk over and over again.)
Anyway.
Sometimes as I'm falling asleep I have these ideas. Ideas that I could turn into a story. Ideas that, at least as I'm falling asleep, seem very workable indeed. But that I don't fully remember when I wake up.
Last night's was something about...pets. What about pets? Well, what about pets indeed. Pets seems to be the only part of the thought that stuck in my head. (Perhaps I'm subconsciously already preparing to be that crazy old maid with a lot of cats, except I'm not a big cat person and I'm mildly allergic so I'd end up being the hamster lady or the gerbil lady or the bird lady...all of which, incidentally, I've been told sound much more creepy than being a cat lady.)
I have a notebook that lives in my purse, a small one, for scratching down thoughts during the day. Why shouldn't I have a night-time notebook?
Except I'm really scared of how ridiculous the ideas might look in the morning. But then, there's a fine, fine line between ridiculous and great.
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