You'll Remember...Until You Don't

I tell myself this lie at least once a day.

I’ll remember that idea for a Substack post.
I’ll remember that brilliant line of dialogue.
I’ll remember that Bible verse, or grocery item, or thing I was supposed to tell my husband before he walked out the door.

I never do.

And yet, like a loyal German Shepherd, I keep returning to the same mental trick: “You don’t need to write it down. You’ll remember.”

Spoiler alert: I will not.

I’ve had fully-formed thoughts—whole paragraphs!—come to me in the shower, or while driving, or in the middle of folding laundry. And I think: Wow. That’s good. That’s really good. I’ll jot it down in just a minute.

And then—poof. Gone. Like it never existed.

I’ve lost more good ideas than I’ve written. Not because they weren’t worth remembering, but because I put way too much faith in a brain that once spent 15 minutes looking for the sunglasses that were on top of my head.

Some people lose socks. I lose sentences.

So now I keep notes everywhere. My phone. My journal. My day-planner. The back of receipts. Napkins. I’ve emailed myself while sitting at a stoplight. I’ve scribbled phrases on church bulletins, paper towels, and once, my own arm. (Desperate times.)

It’s not pretty, but it’s honest. I’m a writer with a faulty memory, a half-charged phone, and an unshakable hope that next time, I’ll remember.

But I won’t.

So I write it down.

Because the truth is, ideas are a little like manna—meant to be gathered when they come. Wait too long, and they vanish.

And I’d rather catch a few crumbs than lose the whole loaf because I was too confident I’d remember “later.”

What’s the weirdest place you’ve ever written something down so you wouldn’t forget? (Asking for a friend. And also for future Substack content. ;)