So you filled your hands

I did a dangerous thing last night: I gambled with a good idea. There are certain places that seem to be magnets for inspiration, and they're never convenient: the shower, for instance, is always a productive spot for me. Last night (and not even late last night; I was so tired just from watching the movers that I conked out at 10:15), I was facedown on my couch (the bed having been junked, a minor triumph), wondering if maybe I'd tried to go to sleep too early. Turn in before you're tired enough and you wind up wide awake at 3 in the morning -- not a good scene. Anyway, listening to the noises in my new hallway, I suddenly got this vision of a safe house in a city; it's the safest place in the city because the halls are patrolled by these huge, silent dogs. If you need to hide, this is the place to do it.

The gamble was that I was so worried about not being able to fall asleep if I got up and wrote it down (because naturally, the idea came when I was at my most comfortable) that I decided to leave it to morning. I didn't even remember to remember it until a few hours after I woke (6:15, for the record -- I felt like I was in middle school). The good news is that I remembered the image; the bad news is that I should not do that.

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I'm down in my almost-old neighborhood at the moment, because this place is the only one I know that gives unlimited free internet access. (And I like supporting them, and if you can, check them out -- great place, Chicagoland!) I visited the Starbucks around the corner, just to see what it was like, and it could be okay in a pinch, but I have to explore some and find my new get-me-out-of-here-so-I-can-write space.