Some day, I'm going to find a way to get inside this head of mine and take a look around. Stragne things happen in there, and sometimes I really feel like an outsider.
This afternoon, I reached for my box of note-papers. It's really more like a small container that holds what would-be sticky notes, if in fact these note stuck.
The fact that they don't stick becomes pretty frigging obvious when you drop the note-box. You wouldn't drop the box of course... but that's exactly what I did, sending little squares of note paper flying everywhere.
After picking it all up and more or less organizing the colors again (can't help it!), I found a note I don't remember writing.
It's obviously not a finished thought - but what the hell is it, and why did I jot it down? And why did I then stick it back in the center of the empty-note-pile?
I bought the box of note-paper nearly two years ago, and it's taken me that long to go through the top quarter of the blank pieces, so who knows how long it's been there. The handwriting is definitely mine.
By the way, yes, I am aware that my handwriting is terrible. I once worked for a man who said I had the handwriting of a serial killer. He treated me better after making that comment...
Wow -- I wonder if you wrote that note and stuck it in there so that you would find it someday when you were least expecting it... Sort of giving advice or insight to your future self... I used to do that with my coats... I'd stick things in the pockets at the end of winter and the next time I pulled the coat out, I'd have something from my past self...
I love the note -- you are a fascinating person...::::: | April 21, 2006 8:31 AM
looks like a song lyric to me...::::: | April 21, 2006 5:11 PM