Lindsay is lying in bed thinking about topics to write about. She really really, truly, really wants her blog to be hip and pop and fresh but sometimes she feels her writing is missing some vital element of…She can’t quite put her finger on it, perhaps, pizazz.
So most nights, this night included, she rests in bed for a few minutes thinking over new and interesting things to write about.
The snow outside is drifting downwards in tiny specs, Lindsay does not let this fool her though, if this keeps up by morning the city will be nearly snowed in. Hmmm that won’t be good for business, Lindsay worries, but she pushes that thought from her mind. Stressing too much about work and snow and money and having to drive on treacherous roads puts a bit of a damper on the creative process. So she shoves the idea to a corner of her brain where she can rummage it up flap it out for later use.
But what to write about? What to pizazz them with? What words to use to wrap ideas around her readers brains? What subjects to sprinkle out upon conversation’s floor? What stories to tell?
That’s it! She’s got it! By golly gosh she’s gone dog gone and done it!
What a fine-looking first sentence, she thinks, as the words skip over her thought process like pebbles across a glass lake. Oh yes, this is good. So good! Lindsay is reveling in the pure pleasure of having thought of such mastery of her craft. Oh how glorious it feels to have done something well.
And with that thought sleep swims up from the place she keeps it in while the daylight hours shine and slowly pulls her down into the depths sleepy-time dreams.
The alarm clock rings at 4am sharp. Generally Lindsay wakes up a few minutes before the melodramatic droning of the alarm begins but not this morning. This morning she is dreaming about being locked in a reality TV show where she must sing Christmas carols in outlandish fashion to gather points in which she must horde in order to buy her way out of the house to freedom. If she does not get enough points by allotted time provided she will be promptly consumed by Ed Sheeran. So needless to say, Lindsay has got to lay off the hot chocolate before bed time.
In any case she is excited to wake up because there lingering in her memory is the fact that last night she had rummaged up the greatest blog topic of the century and this morning she is going to bring it to fruition. It’s going to be awesome man.
She lays stock still. She is quite sure if she refrains from making any sudden movements it will come to her. The idea was huge. Colossal. There is no way it won’t come to her. Right? Any time now it will surface. First, nothing but the tiniest tip will show itself over the immense surface of the oceans which lives in Lindsay’s imagination. After she has deftly hooked the beast she will begin reeling it towards her, every inch closer it comes the more detail of the thing will be made clear. Eventually her fully shaped, fully beatified idea will be waiting in front of her, waiting to be written out for the peoples reading enjoyment.
She waits some more.
Come on. Lindsay says in an anticipatory tone. Much like the tone one uses when waiting for the john on a morning following chili cheese dog dinner night.
Nothing. A stagnant tundra of nothingness is all that fills Lindsay’s brain this cold and dreary morning. She pulls herself out of bed and towards the coffee pot. She begins to brainstorm. Back to the drawing board. Square one.
She manages to piece together some convoluted piece of weirdness about writing and planning and forgetfulness but it just isn’t what she had hoped for. She wanted pizazz, she wanted grandeur. She wanted that damn idea she had come up with last night. She will have to keep a notebook by her bed from now on she thinks. It is the only way.
Lindsay’s only consolation on this morning of non creative accomplishment is the knowing that tomorrow is another day. Another blank space to fill. Another post to write. Or, more accurately—because Lindsay learns her lessons when need be—another post to copy down from her notebook from the night before.