Say, for example, who knows what interesting things might get written while my body was stuck, sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor, surrounded by half-shelled pecans, spilled flour, a crying five year old (because he spilled the flour everywhere, and he was trying so hard to be a helper) in such desperate need of the vacuum cleaner to just magically appear and do it's thing.
Why is it that my brain is so creative at that moment, so full of words, and descriptions, and emotions? And now, when the pecans are shelled, and chopped and safely baking in a cake, and the flour is vacuumed, and put away, and my fabulous five year old is waiting (not very patiently) for me to play a board game with him... now I have no words.
Someday I am going to become a genius, and invent a machine that can read my mind, and type what I am thinking. When I invent that, I'll let you know! Until then, you'll just have to trust me - I do have interesting thoughts sometimes, really!