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some self help In an odd burst of new age self help, I wrote a list of things to do for the week and hung the printout on my refrigerator. I want to organize my time a little better and this may or may not help me. Somehow I managed to list thirty different items and in an ideal universe this would give me at least four things a day to do for the week. Actually if I do half of them by the end of the week I'll be impressed with myself. My landlord arrived right on time this morning and as he finished installing the central air we talked about football of all things. I guess if I really have to talk sports I can do it. I may not be able to rattle off statistics and players names, but I can toss out some general comments and keep a conversation going. Before I fell asleep I finished reading Shampoo Planet. It was a good way to end the day. So often I compose elegant paragraphs in my mind, but when I go to write them down they seem to have vanished. Why is it that words make the most sense when I can barely keep my eyes open?
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