I have moments of such intense genius. Earlier, I thought so vividly that if I were to write down what I was thinking, JD Salinger would be writing ME notes warning me of my sudden fame. After said note, we would start a light mail exchange which would lead to ten months of my living with him. I'd tell him I want a baby and that would be his cue that it's time to break our connection. Out of my pain and anger, I would steal his military jeep (that he apparently enjoys driving around) and later send a ransom note. At this point, it would be decided that I am insane and someone would force me to take a nice hard look at myself and my actions. I would be horrified and go into hiding myself. Thirty years later, I will find out about a young writer and invite that young sparrow into my home. Rinse and repeat. And none of that will happen all because upon having that initial moment of genius, I was driving home from Borders and could not write anything down for fear of driving my abused Hyundai Sonata off the cliff. And that is the only reason why that will never happen. I'm parched.