Attended a comedy show last night. Had a good time. There’s some great comics out there! And some… less great comics.

Next thing I know, ideas are flowing for my own bit. Brainstorm active. These are good! Sister agrees.

Let them marinate overnight. This morning they improve as I shower. As I drive to work.

Finally, the opportunity arises to get them down… open up the laptop.

To a browser tab. Nearest Jack in the Box. No longer in the area. Now over two hundred miles away. I was curious, because there was no longer one where I drove by a few days ago.

Switch to my writing app to jot down the idea.

What idea?

Gone. Nothing. Fuck.

…

Fuck.

Now, I’ve been sitting here for thirty minutes staring at the blank page. I recall something I wanted to add to my bit back in November that somehow isn’t in my notes… so it’s added now.

Last night? Still an utter blank.

Fuck.

Why are we like this? Brain dump. Absolute.

So, now what? Do I continue to stare at the blank page? Strive to recall last night? State of mind? Do I free write what’s running through my head in its absence, which results in a piece of writing no one else will read?

Relax? These things return when we least expect it, right? How to relax though?

And what system can I put into place to ensure this doesn’t recur? Do I need to employ voice notes? Start the laptop from a fresh state so there are no distractions when I open it up? Time to carry a notebook so I can jot ideas down?

Fuck. Still nothing. I don’t know…

And I don’t know what I don’t know. Full circle. From adept to inept.

Hmmm… that’s clever. Maybe that can be used for something. But it’s still not the brilliant bit I had in mind last night and this morning.

Maybe a nap will help. Why can I recall last night’s dreams? That never happens. Anything to take the place of my own brilliance, I suppose.

Fuck. No wonder I lack self-esteem. I excel at hiding my best stuff from myself.

…

Fuck. And here comes the headache. From the strain, I suppose.