Inevitably, the best ideas for blog posts come when I am either in the shower or about to fall asleep. When I'm in the shower, I usually just give it up. I don't have any paper. Daniel gets mad when I write in Sharpie on the walls. If I write it in soap it washes away and I get sad. So those have to go. I just convince myself that whatever idea I have isn't funny.
If I think of something to write about as I'm falling asleep, I desperately try to remember it. I'll even write the post out in my head in an attempt to remember it. I will stay awake for an hour trying to think of as many details as possible so I don't forget my idea.
You'd think I would use all that time to go get a pen and write it down. But my bed is really comfy.
A lot of times I remember the ideas I have right before I go to bed. Unfortunately, I am not the most coherent person when I am sleepy. I can't even say words correctly. Ask BFF Jen. When I get tired I make as much sense as a drunken ferret with marbles in its mouth. So a lot of my ideas aren't exactly blog-worthy.
Last night's idea was no exception. I am still wondering why I thought this was going to be a good idea - and a really good idea, at that. I was really excited. Way too excited. Wanna hear? Sure you do.
I was going to write a post about my eyebrows.
These bad boys right here:
See, I am very particular about my eyebrows. Actually, I am very particular about everyone's eyebrows. I don't really keep mine groomed in any special way. But I can. not. stand it. when eyebrow hair is brushed the wrong way. Or whatever you do to eyebrows to make them do this:
I can't take it, people. Daniel - who, by the way, has magnificent eyebrows - likes to make his eyebrows look all crazy and follow me around until I am forced to fix them. We have a weird relationship.
Anyway, as I was lying in bed last night, I turned my head to get more comfy and I felt an eyebrow hair pop out of place. Just one. It sprang out of line like it had been waiting for me to make just such a move so it could finally free itself from the oppressive regime of my forehead. I stand for no such mutiny and immediately smoothed it back in place. Better luck next time, eyebrow hair.
And it was then that I thought, this would make an awesome blog post.
I know. I'm just as confused as you are. Why on earth would that make a good post? What else was there to tell? That was literally the whole story, in that tiny paragraph above. Not a lot of plot points left.
I guess I could have embellished a little. Like if a giant grizzly bear came and messed up my eyebrows and then, when I woke up, tried to eat me. That would make a good post. Or if someone moved just one eyebrow hair to taunt me and left a note threatening to come back and do it again if I didn't leave $1,000,000,000 in unmarked bills at the QT in 12 hours. That would also make a good post. Although if that happened, I assume one of the conditions would be that I couldn't tell anyone about it so I couldn't write the post at all.
But none of those things happened. My eyebrow got fresh with me. I nipped that business in the bud. And then I spent the next half hour mentally writing a hilarious post about unruly eyebrows.
I think the NICU broke me. But I like it. And so does my unicorn. He also has nice eyebrows.