A place for everything, and everything...goes to hell.

Ugh. I thought trying to be organized was going to make my life better, or easier, or something, but the attempt has been taking over my life like a malevolent creeping spider vine type thing, generally making my weeks into one long borderline anxiety attack. I am even less fun than I normally am. It is like being a hamster running on a wheel in an inhumanely small cage. Except the wheel is sticky. And also has spikes.

It's funny, because when I look at my workload for the day, or week, or whatever, I always think, "Oh, that's not so bad. I can totally do this before (insert applicable deadline here)." Then I actually sit down to do whatever the work is, and everything goes to hell. Whatever part of my brain is in charge of my time-management is apparently run by a psychotic ADD ringmaster, or something equally unproductive.

Also, it doesn't help that we lost a damn hour last night. Always so unfair.

Nor does it help that I'm posting this instead of working on translating Old Irish, but such is life.

Well, while I'm working on getting my priorities straight, I'm going to bake a nice batch of blueberry muffins. Surely that will cheer me up!