I need to get in contact with NASA or somebody. A blackhole has formed in my living room and is sucking all original thought out of my brain. No, really! Usually I have the problem of a surfeit of ideas, so many that sticking with one story and finishing it is a challenge. But here I sit, two hours and not one decent storyline. Maybe it’s aliens. Maybe one of my storylines was too close to the truth and they had to zap me with a nothinkum ray. But it could the government…I’m not really big on conspiracy theories but maybe they are making me think I don’t believe in conspiracies. Or drugs…someone could have slipped something into my double extra whip cappamochacino after work. That girl behind the counter was awfully cheerful for a teenager at 5pm. Or maybe there was ergot in that purportedly healthy sprouted whole grain blob of dough they called a muffin. Maybe I am having original thoughts but hallucinating unoriginal thoughts. Then again, it could just be the cat.