I had a great thought last night. I often aftermath up at odd hours and prevarication for a few proceedings drifting in and out of consciousness, enjoying the enjoyable sense experiences and thought profound thoughts. After a piece I float back to sleep.

Sometimes, I have got got good thoughts at these modern times and they have often been very utile to me, both emotionally and financially.

Well, last nighttime I had a great thought for a series of articles, which I was really excited by. It started with a new angle for a topic that I have got written a batch about. A topic where I was beginning to believe that I didn't have got too much more than to say.

I rapidly mapped out a core article and then planned a series of others which amplified, enhanced and expanded on my chief theme. I estimated that I could probably make around a twelve separate articles from this 1 thought without repetition. I was very pleased with myself and drifted back to sleep.

When I woke up this morning time I was devastated to happen that I could not retrieve one single thing about my great idea! I could not remember one word of any of the pieces I had so excitedly planned. I could not even convey to mind the topic country that they came under.

I was infuriated. I fired up my computing machine and scanned through my article archive, trying to hit a flicker of similarity in my brain; one bantam piece that mightiness convey the whole thing tumbling back into view. Nothing.

I scanned through the article directories and their categories, trying to illume up a isolated synapse or chink a connexion into being. Zilch.

I even, in despair picked up the lexicon and riffled through the pages trying to throw my memory a line of life and retarding force it back from the cloudy Waters of oblivion. Nada. Zip. Not a thing.

My best thought of the calendar month was gone and I don't believe it will ever be coming back.

So I have got learned my lesson. Never travel to bed without a pad of paper and paper beside your pillow. You never cognize when inspiration will hit and you'd better be ready, or you'll stop up like me; whipping my bad caput against the wall.