Restricted Flow

As I tried to fall asleep last night after hours of staring at my laptop in the hotel lobby, my head was filled with things I want to write about. The less time I have for writing, the more I want to do it. But I recognize that most of the topics that flit through my mind are not ones that would be interesting to others without modification. I mean, who really cares that I resisted the impulse to turn off on 450 in order to stop at the mall where my favorite pizza-by-the-slice restaurant used to be and, I hope, still is? Although I like reading about other people's fixations, I am far less confident that they will be interested in reading about mine. So I end up suppressing most of my inspirations and writing the ones I do follow in such a way that they end up more ironic and less true to myself. Part of that has to do with the public nature of my presence on LJ. I don't have many readers, but enough who have some connection to my professional life that I have to think hard before putting something out there. I'll have more to say about that when I get back to Tucson. Right now I have to get ready for our last day in D.C., during which a wealth of other ideas will surely course through my head on their way to an untimely death.