I am annoyed. With myself. I started writing a piece. Discarded it. Came back to the idea, rewrote it. Discarded it. Again.

Sunday morning while cleaning up the kitchen before pancake breakfast, the best description came to me. The exact explanation I’ve been searching for came to mind. If I were profound enough it would have been an epiphany. You must understand there was much excitement in my mind.

So Why are you reading this ode instead of my amazing idea about labels, stereotypes or something to that effect?

It got lost. I did not write it down.

I was in the middle of cleaning the kitchen. Busy mom and all that. I didn’t have time to jot it down. Besides, I have a Super Brain. I can recall my brilliant ideas without making notes. This reasoning is also why I dropped my daughter off to an 11:30 party at 1:30.

Instead of expanding on my clever idea, I spent the latter half of the day trying to recall the passing thought. I have tried to use different angles, ideas, thoughts to jog my memory to no avail. The only thing I’ve produced is frustration. I mentally stomp around my brain cursing myself, my family and the messy kitchen.

I have other ideas to write. Other prompts, completely off-topic from the missing one. I am stuck on this one. I am convinced it was the most brilliant idea I have ever had. Convinced that if I just search long enough that I will find it again.

As if I can bully my way to remembering.

If I relaxed and let it go, it would be more likely to return. But I will just as likely be too busy and lose it again. (As a side note; as I was rewriting this, I had another brilliant idea to insert, but it too got lost).

It’s not the first idea I’ve lost in this manner. Definitely not the last. I try to prepare for these instances with pen and paper always at hand. Making it a habit of jumping on the tools even if I’m busy. After- about 12 years at least of these incidents, you would assume I would learn.

Especially as a student of productivity or “Getting Things Done”. I should know better. I do know better.

I fail. If I were social networking you’d see a cute looking cat with an even cuter caption about failure. If I were motivational writer there would be one of those motivational posters. Or I were being sardonic I would have a de-motivational poster.

I need to find this idea. It’s an idea that’s been plaguing me since early summer. The right words seem elusive. I have a good message to send out. And I need to exorcise the thoughts by seeing them into completion.

They’ll come again, so long as the ideas hound me. And come Monday morning, and writing this piece on lost pieces, it seems they’ll refuse to disappear.