Obligatory Sunday

It's the writer's equivalent of walking upstairs and forgetting what you went upstairs for. When I popped awake an hour ago I knew exactly what I was going to write. It was perfect too. You'd have been amazed.

Now, gone. I suppose I didn't help myself. There's the obligatory trip down the hall first thing in the morning (you know what I mean) and the obligatory cup of coffee. Then there's the obligatory look at Facebook and the obligatory check of email, and of course logging onto Blogger to write brought the obligatory look at my most recent stats (they're good). Then there was the obligatory correction I had to make to my blog from yesterday because, accuracy (thanks Jay). Then there's the obligatory putting on a sweatshirt because I'm cold. And then I would write...this.

The worst part is that when I woke I knew I had a good idea. Ah well. Glad I have a good sense of obligatory thinking up drivel. Now I'll have to get the obligatory pen and paper for the nightstand for he next time this happens.