Productivity.

I have a new hero. David Seah. He writes about design, development, becoming productive, and the business of being a freelancer. He energizes me. He makes me think productivity tools are sexy. And fun. And worth thinking about. Crazy, huh?

I gather that his real biz is creating graphic interfaces, designing interactive stuff and the like. But I love the guy for being extremely organized and scientific and geeky. (Sorry David. I mean it in the nicest possible way.)

Disclaimer. I don’t know this guy. I’m a groupie. I read his feeds, print his forms, download his stuff (like the clock that is sometimes early and sometimes on time to psych you out) and send the really neat stuff to sufficiently geeky (I mean organized and thoughtful) colleagues. Andrew might want to worry about this Seah guy. Just a little.

Seriously, check out his printable CEO series for task management. And the Procrastinator’s Clock. Oh how I love the clock. And who doesn’t love a productivity guy with a sense of humor? You gotta see the Task Project Tracker with the Destruct-O-Matic feature.

What really gets me going is that this guy clearly loves what he does. And boy does it show.

And the fact that he can make this stuff fascinating (Okay, fine. But to me it is!) speaks volumes.

One day, he needed an article from the Wall Street Journal and I sent it to him. He wrote me a thanks! I was honored to assist.

So I’m secretly hoping he’ll see this and respond. But feeding my irrational crush wouldn’t probably be healthy anyway. Or would it?

Twitch, twitch, twitch.

Remember when Fred Flintstone performed at the Rock Roll? He sang Bedrock…twitch, twitch..! – the song and dance that was inspired by Fred’s allergic reaction to pickled dodo eggs.

Who could forget that?

The song, unfortunately, has been stuck in my head for some time now. You see, I have a twitch in the outside corner of my left eye. No big deal, right?

Wrong!

I’ve had this twitch on and off for 3 weeks now. I’m almost ready to check myself into a psych ward.

It’s hard to concentrate.

So, in order to distract myself from the Twitch song and look for alternatives, I started (you guessed it) searching! Hey, it’s something to do, right?

Okay, what this really is…a search from GetLyrical for songs with the word twitch in them. Now, I have to go listen to them all!

Get ‘em while they’re hot.

Each of us has our strengths. Sadly, mine don’t include making pancakes.

I know it’s not hard to do. But I have a terrible pancake complex. Andrew’s are perfect, of course.

So Reed had a friend sleep over the other night. In the morning, Andrew left to take Max to his basketball game (an 8:30 a.m. game – inhuman!) and when Reed and his friend woke up, they asked for pancakes. And they looked too hungry to wait for Andrew to come home. (Don’t think I didn’t consider this option.)

I mixed up the batter and heated the griddle. (I did have to ask one of the kids if I was supposed to grease it.)

Then, having learned from past experience, I cooked a test pancake. It was perfect. Absolutely perfect. I had clearly overcome my fears of inadequacy. Thank goodness.

So I ate the perfect pancake while I cheerfully started cooking the rest. I used a small-ish ladle and wanted each pancake to be uniform. I scooped the batter and laid out 4 perfect circles.

By now, I was simply glowing. I am woman, hear me roar! I turned up the music on the iPod and waited for the right time to flip batch one.

I flipped the first one. Perfection. I couldn’t wait for Andrew to come home so I could gloat.

But then disaster struck.

The second pancake flipped only halfway and folded onto itself. The third wasn’t ready and splattered making the circle too big on the other side. Do you know what I mean by this? It’s burned into my memory now – so if you need me to draw you a picture, I will.

And it was downhill from there.

In many cases, I had to flip the pancake back onto its front to finish cooking. We all know that is not ideal. For some, I had to press on them so the edges would cook. And I feared (not irrationally) that the insides might still be batter-y.

Did the boys eat the pancakes?

Every single one.

Did Reed’s friend mention how good his dad’s pancakes are? Yup. To which Reed replied that HIS dad’s are really great, too.

So dejected, I cleaned up the mess I’d made. And I wiped up the sticky syrup from the counter where the boys ate.

I was all alone in the kitchen with my second cup of coffee when it hit me. I can’t stand the heat.

Maybe I should stay out of the kitchen.

So remember that presentation?

Well I did this instead. (Ever notice it’s way more fun to mess with your friend’s kids photo than your own?)

Toot. Toot.

Hey! I made DC Blogs on Feb 20th with the Graffiti post. Totally made my day to discover this!

Charity begins….

Scientists discover the ‘kind’ part of the brain

Charity begins…in the posterior superior temporal salcus, according to scientists who have traced the origins of altruism in the brain.

A study found that this part of the brain is more active in people who often engage in helpful behaviour.

The region, which lies in the top and back portion of the brain, is linked to sorting out social relationships.

So does this mean that unkind or uncharitable people can’t help it? Or that people who are really thoughtful and kind have no choice in the matter?

I believe in free will. That we all make choices about who we want to be every day. But I wonder. Maybe it really is easier for some to be kind or charitable than it is for others.

What’s a girl to do?

I have to focus.
Focus.
Focus.
Focus.
Instead I’m focusing on Going Down the Road Feeling Bad playing on the iPod.
Play.
Play.
Play.
Instead of playing, I need to write the presentation.
Write.
Write.
Write.
But instead I’m writing this post.
Post.
Post.
Post.
I need to think about what the key points are post haste.
Think.
Think.
Think.
I think I need a snack – maybe a half-sour pickle?
Pickle.
Pickle.
Pickle.
I’ll sure be in a pickle if I don’t turn this in on time.
Time.
Time.
Time.
It’s time I get down to business here.
Get down.
Get down.
Get down.
Get down and boogie – Aiko Aiko is on now!

I think it’s a lost cause. It’s a gorgeous day out. The music is peppy. I’m on my 3rd Diet Pepsi and I can’t sit still.

Mistaken identity.

As I was walking across the parking lot making my way to the gym this morning, a very tall and extremely handsome 30-something man stopped me.

He: Where were you?
Me: Excuse me?
He: Weren’t you going to give me a massage this morning?
Me: (blank stare)
He: I thought we made an appointment.
Me: For a massage?
He: Do you work here?
Me: No.
He: Oh, sorry. You look like…
Me: Maybe another time? (smile/joking of course)
He: (laughs and walks away mortified)

I’ve been trying to eat healthy. Really, I have. Really! Why don’t you believe me? Here are 13 things in our house that are calling my name…

1) All the kids’ Valentines chocolates. Davis has the most left. Think he’ll miss it?
2) Moose Tracks ice cream with hot fudge AND hot caramel.
3) French Fries.
4) Ginger snaps.
5) Oreos.
6) Fritos.
7) Pistachio nuts.
8) Candy hearts with messages on them. (Thanks, Alice!)
9) Horseradish/cheddar spread on crackers.
10) CocaCola – original with sugar and all.
11) Hot chocolate. With marshmallows.
12) Bourbon. (with or without honey)
13) Peanut butter. (from the jar)