Typical really

I had a fantastic idea for a post this morning. It was cogent, politically daring and wittily expressed. Unfortunately, I had to race out the door for my first appointment of the day (Waterstone's in Cambridge in case you were interested) so I left it in my head to mature over the course of the day. It hasn't so much matured as mouldered and fallen apart, a bit like one of those bog mummies which haven't been properly curated. I can't for the life of me think what I was supposed to be blogging about. I can't remember what triggered the thoughts in the first place. It may have been something I heard on the radio this morning. Maybe it was last night. Or at the weekend. I could have been something I read at the weekend. That last one is a bit unlikely - I'm reading one of Lindsey Davis' Falco books and it's far too funny to have conjured serious political thoughts.

So, the lesson of the day is to take a note of things as they occur to me.