From now on, I shall only buy pens with indelible ink. That way when a cat tosses a hairball on my notepad — despite the four feet of clear countertop on either side — all will not be lost. The paper may be saturated in “moisture,” but the ink will remain intact. The paper can be allowed to dry and the notes copied to a new page.
I am quick to grab the nearest piece of paper when a thought strikes me that I just must write down. I am a constant scribbler. Ideas are always flowing through me that I think I must look into. I will scribble my thoughts or make a sketch on anything nearby that has space for it — backs of envelopes, cardboard boxes. Even the back of the only notarized copy of my birth certificate has now unimportant notes jotted on it. Likely just an accident at the time, but nonetheless, there they are.
One of the bigger quandaries for me as I am cleaning this up and wondering what message was in that now indecipherable mix of inks is: with so much clear space on either side of my notepad, why do hairballs always land where they do the most damage? Why does the cat not barf three inches to the left or 2 feet to the right?
I am in control of NOTHING here. I am merely here to serve and clean it would seem. However, at the end of each day just before I turn the light out, I am grateful. This house and its inhabitants have lived another day in relative peace. Amen.
Notes can be re-written and new ideas will always come through me, however life is but once.