On my wall beside my desk is a very nice bulleton board with three sections. It has a section for tacking, a section for pocketing, and a section for writing. The tacking has random information I'll lose if I don't keep it out of the way but often forget about because it is out of the way, the pocket section has coupons that I'll never use but feel I should, and the writing section is why I'm here. The white slate is the Boss. The Boss tells me what I've got to do with a magnetic bullet beside each item. It is both a misery and a relief to write new things up there because it unclutters my brain; puts it all up there in the open where I can see exactly what's ahead of me. But it's also a misery because then I see all the stuff I've got to go, knowing that there is only room for six bullets and sometimes the list is longer than six. Nonetheless, I get absurdly excited to erase one of those items and drop a bullet. Tonight, four bullets. French: Study for oral Gov: Read "Politics" JMC: Speech coverage story French: labs Doesn't seem like all that much, but it's why I've got an energy drink in one hand and growling motivation to stay up late to inch my way down the white back of the Boss. Enjoy it now, Boss, because in two weeks the only thing that's going to be writting on your face is "Merry Christmas!" Carrie