Grand Productivity Experiment: Phase Eight… Nun Too Good

There was a time when I was seriously considering becoming a nun. Then I met the Caped Gooseberry, and it became clear to me that this was not the path my life was meant to take. (Glad I got that clear before we got engaged, unlike Jane Christmas.)

This past week, it became clear to me that I might not have made a very good nun. To be frank, after the first day or two, it was chaos. Picture me, realizing it was time for a pray and finding myself in a tree waving loppers around. (Turns out, you can pray in a tree.)

Neuilly-sur-Seine Saint-Pierre248
Precedent for short people in trees talking to God.
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Grand Productivity Experiment: Phase Seven… Well Annotated

My diary for this last week is full of x and o – not hugs and kisses (I don’t generally record those in such detail) but jobs done and events on.

The Suburbia Affair Man From UNCLE 1966
Slay me if you must, but spare the piano!
The week went something like this (please feel free to imagine this in the style of Victor Borge’s phonetic punctuation): x*xo—x>ox xxxx xxxxx xxxxxxxxxx>xx oo——o>>!— xø>x>xooo

So as you can see, it was a great week.

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Grand Productivity Experiment: Phase Six… Manageable

Wombling, it turns out, is a great way to get things done when you’re tired, under the weather, or trying to fit things in around other, bigger things. Despite ongoing tiredness, I managed to get the bare necessities done and a few other things around them.

And yes, I did succumb to the temptation to browse an atlas, although I admit that I browsed the index rather than the map pages. (A quick eyes-closed stab at a random map page suggests the name Qoraqalpog’iston, which, if like me you didn’t know, is in Uzbekistan, near the border with Kazakhstan.)

Never stick a pin into an atlas. It’s a source of knowledge, not an international voodoo doll.

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