So, I’ve embarked—on the good ship Self-Employment. I staged a cubicle coup and left the confines of the 9 to 5 (or, in my case, the 8:30 to 5, with a half hour for lunch).

You may think it’s all rainbows and sleeping in. You may picture me shuffling about in my bathrobe until sometime just before noon, when I finally clean myself up enough to go out for coffee before settling in for a strenuous 4 hour work day. But you would be wrong. I work just as hard, if not harder, than I did before I liberated my soul.

However.

There are some days—not many, but certainly a few—when I just can’t seem to get it together to manage my time properly. I dawdle. I waffle. I’ll use just about any word I can think of that ends in ‘le’ just to not have to think about it. I’ve made lists only to ignore them. I’ve set priorities only to re-prioritize them over and over until they no longer even make sense.

So, what does one do in this situation? There’s lots of advice on this from any number of productivity gurus, everything from making promises to others so you’ll make good, to delegating, to creating mini-milestones. For me, no amount of shame is too great to tolerate and no amount of joy found in having the opportunity to boss someone else around for a change is enough to make me productive. The only thing that works for me is: pick one thing. Then do it. Until it’s done. Then be happy with that. And move on. If you’re anything like me, chances are you’ll be so chuffed with yourself at having done something—anything—that you’ll do something else as well. And if not, at least the whole day wasn’t a wash.

It’s been a while since I’ve written a list and there’s nothing like a good list to get me going.

As it is Monday, it seems appropriate to come up with a list of things that cause me to be peevish–not unlike Monday itself. I hope to follow it later with a list of things that please me to no end. But until then, in no particular order and by no means an exhaustive list, here goes:

1. People who behave as if the train or bus standing in front of them will be the last one EVER, and then proceed to crowd the doors trying to get on before letting other people off. Knock that off right now!
2. Authors who submit late manuscripts, have what seems to be only a marginal understanding of the English language, call far too frequently, and assume their glorious stature as writer of a 64-page book on crafting enables them to tell their editor how to use language while working on their little gems.
3. The guy who says “And how is AnnMarie today?” causing me to respond in the third person. Just so you know: I. Am. Fine.
4. My own complete and utter lack of interest in exercise. I know it’s good for me and that I should like it, but I just don’t.
5. Slow talkers. Close talkers. Loud talkers. Over-sharers.
6. Lynard Skynard. Yes. All of it.
7. When people “friend” me on Facebook, then never engage with me in any way. Not even a wall post. Sod off and stop being a collector.
8. Polyphonic classical music mobile phone rings.
9. That twitchy/fussy/kicky feeling I get in my legs when I’m sitting at my desk but don’t feel like working.
10. The guy who tells stupid jokes that a) aren’t funny; or b) don’t even make sense.

My loyal readers (both of you, bless your hearts) are likely wondering where the Hello Kitty I’ve been lately.

I’d like to say “I’ve been busy” but it’s simply not true. However, here’s a list of 10 other possible reasons I haven’t been posting*:

1. The vagaries of the internet have eluded me. (Please disregard the fact that I email/FB/Twitter with some degree of regularity [read: obsessively]).
2. The internet was broken.
3. My computer was broken.
4. I was broken.
5. In a cruel and freakish twist of fate, I lost my fingers in a horrific accident concerning some frozen poultry, a roll of undeveloped film, 6 Laotian khaen players and a bowl of lentil soup.
6. I have been trapped under something heavy with only my mobile phone, which for some reason I did not use to call for help, to amuse me.
7. Plagued with crippling “performance anxiety” I was unable to publish for fear of alienating/disturbing/amusing/acting as a mirror to your enfeebled sense of humanity/boring my two dedicated readers.
8. Someone switched the keys on my keyboard so that everything I endeavored to type appeared to be the garbled ramblings of a drunk. Wait a minute…
9. I was drunk.
10. A garden gnome stole my password.

*Disclaimer: The listed reasons may or may not be true, either when taken as a whole or in part. The Noun accepts no liability for the content of this blog post, or for the consequences of any actions taken on the basis of the information provided, unless the information is subsequently confirmed in writing. Even if said information were to be subsequently confirmed in writing, you’d have to make a pretty compelling argument for me to give a flying flange about the entire godforsaken affair. Garden gnomes, Laotian Khaen players, and heavy things notwithstanding, what you read here is pretty much your problem. I mean, you’re not one of those people who need the “Caution. This beverage is hot!” warnings, are you? You are, aren’t you!? Ugh.