I’m at the airport again and I’m trying to work out what to write about. I bought a slick and tiny laptop so that I can carry it with me and write whenever I feel like it. However, what seems to happen is that as soon as I feel like writing, I don’t have it with me…typical. When I do have it with me, I can’t think of anything to write. So, right now, I’m writing about not writing.
Whatever thought comes into my head feels like old ground and it’s hard to be inspirational when you’ve been travelling for 4 hours with three more to go. So, I’m going to recount some of the day’s events in the hope that it will trigger something interesting.
I went to London this weekend to see my goddaughter, Cassandra. It’s her 1st birthday and I felt that like a responsible godmother, I should be there to help celebrate. I did the usual thing, bought a present last minute on Friday before my early Saturday morning flight then proceeded to leave it in the pub after work. Luckily, a colleague, Andrew returned to the pub for me, rescued the package (a pick fluffy coat) and left it with another colleague (also named Andrew) to return to me on Monday. Thanks guys. That’s Cassandra’s Christmas present sorted.
This left me in the embarrassing situation of having to buy a present once I got here, and having the tendency to be scatter-brained the moment I leave the office, didn’t buy wrapping paper. I did, however, find some left over Christmas wrapping paper with snowmen on it and used that. I reasoned that Cassandra, being neither old enough to realise the significance of either birthdays or Christmas, and will find the colour of paper more interesting than the pattern or its contents will most likely forgive my error.
So, with gift in hand, I entered my friend Samantha’s house to a warm greeting, a birthday present for me (she wasn’t there last month) and most importantly, a glass of champagne.
This incident has had the desired effect. I’ve thought of something I think might be worth writing about.
I’ll be the first to admit it – I’m forgetful. When I’m at work, I’m focused on the job and there is little that penetrates the cocoon I create for myself the moment the lift doors open at the office. The downside to this dedication is that everything else in my life seems to take a hit. I forgot to pay the cleaners for two months. I finally sent them a cheque and a letter grovelling and asking them not to forget to do the oven and skirting boards.
I have to set up direct debits to be sure my bills get paid. I can’t remember the last time I called my brother in the States and I have email and calendar alerts in place to remind me of family member’s birthdays. Last year, I nearly forgot Christmas.
I keep buying socks and underwear because I never have time to do laundry, so the wash basket is filled to the point where garments are climbing their way up the wall.
Most people are forgetful about something. I’m forgetful about most everything…
So, if there was an area of your life you wished you paid more attention to, what would it be?
Try this; write a story or a short piece where the main character forgets something important. What are the consequences and how does he or she resolve the situation?
Writing Prompt: Forgetful