Late

I keep a list of ideas for blog entries. I write them down as they occur to me, or they’ll buzz away like hummingbirds, never to be seen again. I’ve even been known to pull off the interstate just so I can take a note if the topic sounds particularly intriguing.

When that list gets short, I get nervous. I’m waiting for the day when all I can say is, “I got nothin’.” That will probably be my last entry. Surely at some point the river of ideas will run dry. I’m amazed it’s continued to flow for this long.

So when I sat down to write today and consulted my list, I found one item that utterly baffles me. “Late.” That’s it. That’s all I wrote. Late. What is that supposed to mean? I don’t even remember writing it. (Maybe I was running late.)

Did I want to write about how I seem to start everything later in life than most people do? Was I planning on writing a rant about someone showing up late? Was I going to write about someone who passed away?

Maybe I meant to say “Latte”, and was going to hold forth on the number of coffee shops in Seattle. Or “Date”, because I had one recently. (But it didn’t work out, so I don’t really want to talk about it.)

Maybe I need to start another list, and at the very top of it I should write, “Provide a little more detail when you write a list.”

Author: The View from a Drawbridge

I have been a bridgetender since 2001, and gives me plenty of time to think and observe the world. View all posts by The View from a Drawbridge