At least, it's weird for me.
All day long I have essays and poems and theses running through my head.
And all day long I have no time to complete them.
So I do the napkin thing-- grabbing whatever sort of random material that will hold my thoughts temporarily, until I can find a better home for them. Which I rarely do. So they float, half-way between my thought processes, and half-way between the paper I can't seem to ever find; and when the paper is present, the time is lost again.
So here I am, 11:00 on a Saturday night, in my tiny little house, without husband.
I have time and paper--
but no words.
Sorry to disappoint.
But today I'm tired of trying too hard.
Husband blogs. I'm sure you'll read.