I keep a notebook and pen next to my bed, in the event that a brilliant idea may come to me in the middle of the night or as I’m drifting off to sleep. If the ideas are good, they might turn into a blog post. But a lot of the time, they don’t make sense, or they’re less brilliant by the harsh light of day, or I can’t make out what I wrote in the pitch black of my room.
Last week, in the middle of the night, I wrote this. I felt like it was really important at the time:
“Don Rickles as Princess Leia.”
“I don’t condone baby punching. (You were) probably wondering where I fell on that.”
I feel like they’re kind of self-explanatory.