a thought

Sometimes, I've got nothing. Not that nothing is going on. Nothing to share. Not really. Too much going on. I've been having vivid dreams, crazy, exciting stuff that I know better than to even attempt describing. They just sit with me, and keep a little smile at the ready.

A couple of mornings ago, I woke up with a thought, and it seemed like an important thought. It was the first sentence to an upcoming chapter. The chapter is pivotal because the narrative goes from first-person to third-person. It has a purpose. The other chapters are all over the place, according to when they take place. (Some in my critiquing group have expressed dissatisfaction, even discomfort with the non-linear telling of the story. Feh!)

I kept spinning the thought around in my head. I didn't want to lose it. So I kept repeating it over and over. I didn't want to just roll over sleepy-eyed and grab the first piece of paper and the first pen and write it down. I wanted to make sure it was right.
I petted the cat.
I got up and peed.
I started the water for the coffee.
I put away the clean dishes.
I got the cat food and the half 'n' half out of the refrigerator.
I fed the cat.
I poured half 'n' half in my coffee cup.
I put the cat food and half 'n' half away.
I got the coffee out of the freezer.
I prepared the coffee filter.
I made my bed.
I turned on the power strip which turned on the internet.
I turned on my computer.
I put the filter on the carafe and poured the boiling water into it.
I entered my password and opened the programs I needed for work.

All the while I kept repeating this oh so important opening sentence to myself. Then I wrote myself an email. I updated it a couple of times throughout the day. This is what I ended up sending to myself:

One event cut a line through the world, divided it into two parts, measurably changed the lives of certain people on either side of it forever. That event took place with Anita Cox.