She thinks she missed the train to Mars, she's out back counting stars.

Last week, when I almost hyperventilated thinking about all the articles I had left to write before my deadline, I decided I needed to get my act together. And, you know, stop hyperventilating because that's not so much productive. Part One of Getting My Act Together was organizing my desk, which I did a couple of weeks ago and BY GOLLY (did I seriously just say "by golly?" Sheesh) it's stayed organized. This is a big deal. Usually my desk devolves into chaos about a day after organization. But this time? I employed such devices as an in-box and filing system and, throughout tax doing and article writing and bill paying, the desk has stayed clean and clear and under control (did I seriously just say "clean and clear and under control?" Sheesh.)

If Part One was organizing my desk, then Part Two was organizing my brain. Granted, this is much more complicated than Part One, but through an ongoing system of, I don't know, making To Do lists, I was actually GETTING STUFF DONE. And then some. It got to the point that I was actually ADDING stuff to my To Do list at the end of the day because I'd finished everything else. Plus, I really like crossing stuff off. It's extremely satisfying, sort of like deleting those old e-mails that you KNOW you shouldn't read over and over because they're going to set you off on an emotional roller coaster, and not even one of those new roller coasters, but like one of those old, rickety roller coasters that give you whiplash and make your head all fuzzy and your heart feel like it's going to fall out of your chest, and yet you read those e-mails anyway and then think, "Why? Why did I read that?" and so finally one day you say, "ENOUGH," and DELETE THEM ALL so you never have to think about them again. The end.

Ha, you wish it was the end. So this To Do List System was working pretty well until yesterday. Number one on the list was "Go Running," which I did not do and my excuse was that all my sports bras were dirty. And I couldn't go running without them because . . . ow. Then I was going to write some articles, but I'd finished my book at lunch (shut up, Heidi) and wanted to start a new one and I was only going to read a chapter but suddenly I was a third of the way through and it was 7 o'clock and I realized I was starving and I tried to figure out how to cook dinner while holding the book, but I couldn't. You know what someone needs to invent? Some sort of contraption that goes over your head, like a headband or one of those beer hats, and it has arm thingies that hold your book out in front of your face for you and also the arm thingies would know how to turn the pages. Maybe they'd be voice activated and you could just say, "Turn Page," or something and it would turn the page (duh). Also, it should have a built in dictionary so if you come across a word like . . . quinquagenarian, you could be like, "hey, book thingie, what does quinquagenarian mean?" and it would tell you and not make you feel stupid for not knowing. So someone get on that. I come up with the ideas, you do all the work, that's how this relationship works, OK? So anyway, by the time I ate dinner and fucked around on my laptop and read some more, it was far too late to attempt anything on my To Do list and so I just went to bed. Wow, good story, Jennie, tell it again.

I wrote my To Do list for today and only put about four things on it, so I have a better chance of actually, I don't know, finishing it. So at least I learned something. Cue the tinkly piano.