Thoughts on Thoughts

Thoughts.
An obscure assortment of unprepared ingredients.
Like that last day of the week where you know you need to go grocery shopping but you really don’t want to. So you scrape the bottom of your fridge and the edges of your pantry, pulling out every single remotely edible item hoping that it can contribute to tonight’s experimental concoction you’ll refer to as “dinner.” (Think Dr. Evil saying, “laser.”)
On rare occasions, you’ll find just what you need to make an acceptable meal. But most of the time, not so much.
Call me old fashioned, but there’s a problem with this random selection of ingredients: 1/2 a block of smoked cheddar, a shriveled up cucumber, the remains of an organic alternative to Cheerios that are stale because someone in your home can’t seem to close the cereal bags all the way (This may or may not be real life for me.), and chili powder were never meant to be in a meal together.
But sometimes, that’s all you have: a seemingly chaotic list of ingredients.
Thoughts upon thoughts upon more thoughts.
And that’s okay. Really, it is.
There are times when your mind needs to throw up all over a pad of paper, perhaps aided by a cup of coffee or rum or even both.
So I’m gonna write (and/or type). And get it all out there. Not sure I’ll disect and flesh it all out.
(Although I do enjoy whiteboarding. It helps me see it all, you know?)
And I’m not going to edit my words.
Unless I write something obviously crazy and false like “the earth is flat” or “the President wasn’t born in this country.”
Maybe I’ll edit potentially offensive statements, too. Maybe.
But for the most part, what’s going through my mind will be what’s written here. Both sentence and fragment.
I’ll own that my thoughts likely won’t add up to complete concepts, polished policy, or sound doctrine.
They’ll likely be smoked cheddar-covered stale cereal sprinkled with chili powder.
Hopefully you can wash it down with some refreshing cucumber water.
