Whenever I'm taking a shower, driving my car, or sitting on my toilet, I think of all kinds of things I want to write about here. I compose the sentences in my heads...sentences that join others and make wonderful, descriptive paragraphs that tell a wonderful story. Oh, the story itself might not be wonderous - no it might be about an incident that happened at work, or home, or at the store. Yet I have such a wonderful idea of how it will come out here, on the "page."
And then it happens. I live my workaday life, rushing to work in the morning, making phone call after phone call at work, and driving home again at night. Little snippets of more journal entries make their way into my head, and then I get home.
"Hi honey. What's for dinner?" So my night begins, with more running around to get dinner on the table, and then the tedious task of cleaning it all up afterward.
After watching a TV show, or maybe just catching up on email, I end up yawning as I realize it's time to go to bed. "I'll write those journal entries tomorrow," I tell myself as I brush my teeth.
Then I lay me down to sleep, and just as I am about to drift off, I think of yet one more thing I want to write about. What seems like five minutes later, I wake up, only do to it all again.
And those journal entries? They just never seem to get written.