A few weeks ago, I overheard my husband talking to his brother on the phone. My name came up; my ears tuned in.

“…she’s got so much material, she’d have a book, if she could just get organized.”

WeLL aCtUaLLeEeE…you know what? I’m so fucking organized it’ll make your head spin. Some days I spend more time organizing my work than doing the work. (That’s a problematic coping mechanism; probably something to do with a need to feel in control.)

Here is a mind-map of all my current projects and the next tasks I have scheduled for them:

Dear gods.

I don’t need to get organized. I need an additional 99 hours in a day. I need an apprentice. I need a team. I need a focus group. I need a marketing division. I need a cleaning crew. I need an angel investor.

I need to get back to work.