It’s on the tip of my tongue.
If I focus a little longer, it will come back to me.
The nearly perfect joke for the scene. Few words, big laugh.
First time I thought of it anyway, I laughed out loud.
(As a writer, you kinda have to laugh at your own jokes I think. I hope… It’s normal, right?)
I was at the day job. And it was crazy busy. Boxes everywhere, people asking questions, minutes dragging on for a mysterious, depressing reason I don’t wanna dwell on right on.
Long story short.
Yes, my co-worker looked at me like I was a nutcase when I laughed loudly for no apparent reason.
No. I didn’t take a NOTE !!
What led me to the conclusion that I, stressed out mama who can’t barely remember her own kiddo’s year of birth sometimes – true pathetic story -, would remember the joke?!
Now, in front of the manuscript, the cursor flashing where the joke in question is supposed to be written… I can’t remember the tone, the words, nothing.
I feel like I’m going into a slow metamorphosis towards imbodying discouragement itself.
Ah! But I shall never let myself be sunk by this old foe of mine.
Scavaging through all the notebooks I bought or received through the years, I found a cute little notebook, easy to hide in the pocket of my day job mandatory apron.
Yep. A mandatory apron.
It sounds a bit depressing?
That’s because it is.
The joke is lost. I must accept it. Learn from the mistake. And think of something else.
Maybe the joke was not that funny anyway.
Something the readers will never be able to judge.
Because I didn’t take a note !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
On this grumbling moment, dear fellow writer, I bid you farewell and may all the good words flow your way.