Sorry Darling, Must Dash. Ta Ta....

Maybe it's a leap, but this water-skiing squirrel reminds me of the busy mobile professional I used to be, assisted by bluetooth, wireless, cable, and cellular. I'm not quite a technophobe now, but I did figure out that spending all day juggling twelve things simultaneously keeps me from sleeping at night.

I'm sure I'm not the first. Oprah's bound to have had guest speakers on the subject. But...duh...it's only just occurred to me that bedtime is the only time my brain isn't otherwise occupied. So - because I haven't yet entirely fried them - my brain cells work double time to squeeze out a couple of epiphanies before I succumb to slumber. Which I never do, of course, because epiphanies are way too exciting. (I should have known it was Colonel Mustard. The candlestick's in his camera bag....)

To wean myself off Ambien, I've resolved to do one thing at a time and keep head-noise to a minimum. No more turning pages while eating lunch. I've tossed the headphones. Shut off the phone. Walk right past my silent PC on the way to bed. On my hour-long commutes by car, I no longer listen to Mozart's Requiem. Nor to audio books and Garrison Keillor. Instead I let my mind wander, and wander it does.

The only problem - a significant one - is that my memory's shot. How to record stunning revelations doing 75 on the Thruway?

While I confess to having written the occasional note on the back of an envelope (I now welcome traffic jams) I've been trying to figure out a safer way to recall brainstorms. Which brings me right back to technology. Get a recorder, friends enthuse. With Dragon Naturally Speaking you can digitize your musings. Voice-write entire manuscripts.

Forget that. Characters continue to live in my keyboard. But since plot twists come at desperately inconvenient moments - in the wee hours and on wheels - I've done two things. For those middle-of-the-night ponderings, I put a notebook and pen under the bed. For the car, I use Jott with my cell phone (yes, with headset) to send myself text emails of my own, spoken, ideas. Yeah, yeah, I'm still an egghead.

Jott's free. Conversion to text is spookily accurate. I can speed-dial Jott's toll-free number, discuss my inspirations, and get a near-perfect text version by email. (See The Washington Post or Network World.)

I suppose that talking to myself while driving - even with the headset, officer - makes two things I'm doing at once. But then, I never could keep a resolution.

- Lois