Taking my daughter to soccer practice as I was tonight, I found myself with nothing to write on. I was only going to be gone an hour and a half, but the need to write something, anything, was so overpowering that I went to the local office supply store to get a little bitty notebook and a pen. I found a cool telescoping pen that could shorten itself to the perfect length to fit inside the notebook's spiral binding.
Ah. Pens and notebooks. 100 blank sheets! Tabla Rasa! Imagine the possibilities!
So I did the defensive line rotation plan for our upcoming season opener this Friday against Nordhoff High School.
I probably could have waited. Or done it in my head. But having it written down was a great feeling. To take Tony's song from West Side Story out of context, I felt as if the world was humming.
Because I was writing it down. Not just thinking it--thoughts are ephemeral and, I discover as I grow older, getting less and less graspable. I find my thoughts resemble whole kosher dill pickles in a full jar: I can see them, I can touch them, but grasping one of them is ridiculously difficult.
The little notebook not only records my thoughts for me, but somehow helps me think them.
Like I said, I think I have a problem. What is the word for addiction to office supplies? And is there a support phone line?