Val Saksornchai

Here’s one thing I’ve noticed about myself: when I’m writing a card or postcard or message for someone, the first thing I come up with (and invariably engrave on chosen surface in ink) is never good.

I could be in any number of situations: in front of the cashier rushing to put my message in a book before it is giftwrapped, or sat in the comfort of my hotel room contemplating what message to write on a postcard.

It’s not that I don’t know. As I come up with the words, I know that they’re not good. The problem is that at that point in time I can’t think of anything better.

Then, miraculously, five minutes later, sometimes a day or two later, the perfect words present themselves to me, and I feel like a stupid ass (read: donkey) for having written something inferior. And usually far inferior.

This phenomenon happened to me just now. I realised I should have written something different in a book I already had giftwrapped, and a different ending in a postcard I’d already sent. You could call it a double whammy. 

Is there a cure for this? Am I to be eternally doomed to write subpar messages for my loved ones?

I’m seriously considering asking my friend to add to my message in the book after he’s opened it. 

We’ll see.

Are you inflicted with the same disease? How did you batter yours?

Please share. I’d love to hear from you.