Since meeting one of the Innocent smoothie boys in London a couple of weeks ago, I haven't been able to stop dreaming up business ideas. As one of the founders stood there in Regent's Park, all posh voice, floppy hair and dreamy eyes, a little light bulb went on in my head.
You, too, it seemed to be saying, could come up with an idea for a service that people need and that would eventually make your bank manager happy. I was due one of those embarrassing calls from the bank about the state of my credit card, so pleasing them was foremost in my mind.
I knew I would have to be patient. Even the three Innocent boys didn't come up with their idea straight away. Their first notion was an electrical device that would automatically fill baths to the right level and at the perfect temperature. Then they realised water and electricity are probably not the best combination, and the idea died a death before one of their customers could.
Their next plan was to eradicate keys by inventing a card that you could wave to open the door to your house or your car, but it didn't work out, either - and, as it turned out, several car companies beat them to it.
Then they realised that most people wanted to eat more healthily, so seven years ago they chucked a load of fruit in a blender and became smoothie operators.
Okay, it wasn't quite as easy as that, but my point is that they didn't just sit there, dreaming about doing it: they went and did it. They now sell a million smoothies a week and give 10 per cent of their profits to charity.
I was quite prepared to wait a while for my own eureka moment, but the next day, on the flight home from London, it just happened. I'd been talking about how awful it was that I could never remember people's birthdays or anniversaries - and how, even if I did remember, I never got around to sending a card.
Then I thought about how great it would be if an online service could help people like me. I'd pay someone to remind me about people's birthdays, and I would also pay them to get a card, stick a stamp on it and put in the post.
The light bulb was shining so brightly at this point that I could feel my brain getting slightly singed. Ooh: if I would pay for such a service, then perhaps other people would pay for it, too. Aah: and they might pay not only for that but also for loads of other niggly things we don't get around to doing in this cash-rich, time-poor society.
Seconds later I even had a name: www.forgetyounot. com. As soon as I got home I checked to see if the address was taken, but it was available, just waiting to be
snapped up by little old entrepreneurial me. I took this as a sign.
Buzzing with enthusiasm, I got a positive response when I road-tested the idea over a family dinner, even if one of my sisters spoiled it by saying I was the last person she'd trust to remind her of things. Undeterred, at work the next day I decided to give my e-mail inbox a good decluttering. I was, after all, going to have to get a bit more organised if I was about to start my very own dotcom empire.
That was when I discovered an unread e-mail, from a woman called Vivien de Burca, dated last May. (Yes, May, as in three months ago. And your point is?) "Dear Roisin, in the last few months I have started a new company, www.problemsolved.ie. I am a science teacher and researcher during the day, and in my spare time I try to assist people on a very practical level. Whether I'm asked to remind people to send special cards on the appropriate day, buy and send the cards, buy presents, order or collect for weddings - no problem is without a solution . . . I hope to go nationwide in the future."
The sound you just heard was my trusty light bulb smashing into smithereens. Distraught, I felt compelled to ring Mrs de Burca, who, naturally, turned out to be a really nice person whose business is thriving because so many people don't have the time to send birthday cards and all those other niggly things in life.
This comforted me slightly. It meant my idea would have worked, which meant I probably had the capacity to dream up another idea that people might like. So now I have. And although I'm prepared to discuss it with potential investors, my book on being an entrepreneur says I shouldn't tell anybody else.
All I will say is that it was inspired by Anita Roddick, the Body Shop founder, who reckons the next big business ideas will be products or services designed to stave off loneliness. And it has nothing whatsoever to do with electric baths.