I’ve got some kind of cold that’s settled into my chest, and it leaves me winded just walking up the stairs. I’ve been absolutely buried at work, and it’s left little time for just about anything else, including writing, which I really, really need to be doing right about now.

I’ve been lugging a printed copy of Time Management for Creative People around in my laptop bag for a few months now. Yesterday I finally pulled it out and sat down to read it over lunch. I learned I’m a huge violator of two of its central tenets: getting organized and not allowing interruptions. One look at either of my desks would be enough to demonstrate I’m not organized. However, I always felt pouncing on those interruption emails (teachers saying “I need this” and “can you do this” for the most part) would be more productive than letting them sit. Instead, it’s probably resulting in the backlog of other emails that I’ve filed away as relating to separate projects. Not to mention it’s a dumb idea to use the Inbox as a to-do list anyway: once those emails scroll off the viewing window as new ones roll in, they’re long forgotten.

So, while I’m trying to kick whatever virus this is, I’ve gone ninja on my home email inbox. It looked something like this:

How many broken limbs did you count? I lost track at a gazillion.

The inbox is empty. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen anything like that. I feel like I’m staring at the trash folder after dumping the contents. It’s a small accomplishment, but it feels like progress.

Now to regroup for the umpteenth time this year. Wish me luck.