Do you care what I had for breakfast? I didn’t think so. You’d think I could come up with something to write about that isn’t my breakfast, but you’d be wrong.
I went for a short walk at lunchtime today (this is not the introduction to me telling you what I had for lunch) that became a slightly longer walk because apparently I forgot where we live. On my way back, less than four blocks from home, I took the first right instead of the second right because I have no idea why, I just did. And I didn’t realize I had done that until I was most of the way down a really long block that has no cross streets to cut through to my block. I turned around. Safely on my block, heading home, I stopped paying attention again, just long enough to walk right by our house. At least this time I figured it out before I got more than one house away.
I wish I could tell you I was mapping out my first novel or calculating the escape velocity I’ll need when it’s time for me to come home from my first galactic journey or, I don’t know, pondering the true nature of couscous and if it’s possible to have a single cous, but since I don’t remember what kept me so lost in thought as to forget where I lived, we can only assume I was thinking about breakfast.