Struggling For An Idea


I dashed to my office, food and drink in hand, waiting to write down a glorious idea. I was able to set everything down, sit and grab the pencil before… UGH! I forgot my idea. Come on! I sat there trying to recover my brilliance. Then I grabbed my laptop, the easel of my greatness. I opened a document, and began to think. I knew there were endless possibilities for stories, but nothing was coming to me. I was drawing blanks in my head. I bashed my head on the desk, hoping my brain would wake up and actually think, but to no avail. I got up from my throne, and paced. Back and forth, back and forth. Nothing. I sat back down. I grabbed my laptop again, and went on the internet. Google.com. I typed in “ideas for a story”. I saw the most idiotic ideas. I slammed my fist on the desk, and slammed the laptop screen shut. I got up and walked out, disgusted at my nonexistent brain.

I paced in my dining room, and I remembered that I had food in my office. I walked back and grabbed the giant-size bag of cheetos. I also grabbed my giant three liter of citrus energy drink. I walked back out, sat at my small kitchen bar, and opened the chips and soda. I ate, and I ate. I finished the bag of chips in about 10 minutes, and chugged the sugar-filled drink in another five minutes. I was full of energy and ready to go. I dashed back and got ready to write. I sat there staring at my paper in the dim office light and thought…, and thought..., and thought…. Nothing. UGH! Why did I eat and drink all that for nothing? I need to find an idea.


I ran back out of the room and opened the fridge. Nothing. I opened the freezer. Nothing. I grabbed my car keys and wallet and dashed out the door. I dropped into my car (because it’s so low) and fired it up. I backed out of my driveway and sped down the street. I almost hit another car backing out. I arrived at the store as fast as I could. There was an old lady driving like a snail on wheels. I could not pass her because it was a one-lane street. I finally had to turn left at Albuquerque. I finally made it to the store; and… closed. UGH! I hate Sundays. Nothing’s open on Sunday. I booked it in my car to Walmart. I hate Walmart. They kicked me out several times just because they suspected me of shoplifting. I grabbed a cart and dashed to the freezer section. I grabbed the cheapest bag of french fries I could find. I then ran to the frozen chicken. I grabbed the biggest bag of that. I dashed to the cookie isle and grabbed the biggest package of Sugar Wafers and Nutter Butters. I sprinted to the register, put the items on the counter, and smiled at the cashier. She saw the pouring sweat off my face. She rang up my items, then she handed me a paper. It had her number on it. I put it in my pocket and focused on the task at hand. I grabbed my credit card that has been over its limit for six months now. I swiped it, and it was denied. I grabbed the last $20 dollar bill I had and gave it to her. I only got change back. 75 cents to be exact. I dashed out of the store, almost getting hit by an SUV. I stuffed everything into my trunk and dropped into my car again. I sat on the seat belt this time. Boy, did that hurt. I fired it up and backed out aggressively. I squealed my tires taking off, and booked it back home. I got into my driveway, opened the trunk, grabbed everything, and ran into my house.

I gently set everything down on the counter and ripped open the nutter butters. I ran back, holding them in my hand, sat down at my desk, and began to think again. I sat there, eating all the Nutter Butters one by one. I looked in the package and it was empty. Then I knew I had wasted another food item. Then my stomach starting making noises. The energy drink had settled.


I dashed to my bathroom. I sat down, and I waited. I waited. I waited. I waited for 15 minutes. I was finally done. Then my second round of snacks had settled. I walked back to the bathroom, sat down AGAIN, and waited. This time it only took five minutes. When I was done, I walked out of the bathroom like I just left all my internal organs in there, and I walked out to the fridge, grabbed a water, and went back slowly to my office, dreading the thought of thinking again. Then I decided to not walk back to my office and instead, I walked to my couch, sat down and watched some tv. There were a couple of hockey games on, so I flipped back and forth between them. It was Boston @ Florida or Pittsburgh @ Buffalo. Pittsburgh was thwomping Buffalo, and Boston was in overtime with Florida. The Boston game was more interesting, but I always flipped back to the Pittsburgh, hoping they would score 10 goals or a brawl would break out. I watched Boston win in a shootout, and Pittsburgh won 7-2. I then walked back a tired, ugly soul. I looked at the clock: 10:30 p.m. I knew I needed some sleep.

I woke up and looked at the clock with my eyes squinted. 8:30 a.m. Well I guess I need to get up. I picked myself up out of the full-size tempurpedic mattress and walked out to my kitchen, still disgusted at the mess I made and how I could not think of an idea. I grabbed two breakfast sandwiches out of the freezer and set them in the microwave. I set it for two minutes, and slowly grabbed the milk jug from my fridge. I poured a glass. By then, my sandwiches were done. I grabbed them and sat down on my couch and watched the news. I sat there and thought. I could not think of anything. My brain just doesn’t want to work.

I walked back to my little desk in the corner of my little office and I sat down and thought. I went through all this and still, no ideas. Then I knew. I knew what I was going to write about. I grabbed my sharpened pencil and some paper and began to write the outline. I kept writing ideas like my brain just woke up and is now drag racing. After about an hour, I had what I was going to write about: a guy writing a story. I had all the details about how the character struggles for an idea (which gave me my title), and how he goes through all this and can’t think of an idea. Then he thinks of an idea. He is going to write about a guy writing a story. I had all the basics covered. I just needed to start typing. I grabbed my laptop, and it was dead.