Why I Meant To Tell You...

You know how it is. Thoughts, random, occur to you in the oddest places: bumper-to-bumper traffic, shaving your legs in the shower, trying to sleep but your mind races. Those are the thoughts/ideas I meant to tell you. Meant to tell me. Meant to remember, but too soon forgotten. I have the memory of a flea. I've been told that with discipline (HA! What in the world does the word discipline mean?) I can sit quietly with my thoughts, organize and record my self-absorbed epiphanies. This does sound like a forum for the self-important, doesn't it? We'll see.