12:38 p.m. The organizing, cleaning, shaping-up, throwing-out, going-through-all-my-stuff mania is upon me. It is in full swing upon my head and shoulders. I always get this way as September gets under way. I always make the most grandiose plans and volunteer for all kinds of disgusting tasks and I really get a major flurry going. Whew. I hardly had time to sit down and write this piece this morning, what with all the dust balls and busy work.

I am currently: putting the September archives and fabulous new contest photos together for the big rollout tomorrow; organizing my collection of Absolut ads; looking through my business-card collection for new design ideas; re-stacking my stiff-paper collection (don't ask); trying to put the Shadow Lawn site together in a way that doesn't make me barf; half-vacuuming, half-dusting, half-wiping things as I wander; and reorganizing all the books.

This is how it always is when the long shadows fall. I can't help myself, really. Remember the smell of burning leaves when backyard incinerators were still legal? Remember going through your mothballed sweaters while still wearing shorts? It's that time of year again, folks. Time to get a grip.

I have to know exactly what I have before I can figure out what I need. I've always been this way. I've got to line everything up, take inventory, account, account, account. Then and only then can I make a list of things to do, things to get, things to wish for.

I've always been this way. I don't like to have more than one container of similar things open at the same time, moving up and down to different levels. If I find such an obscenity, I must batch the two into one. Immediately. I really can't help it. What makes it hard on Igor, of course, is when my ideas of "similar" and his are in variance.

He believes in variety when it comes to grated cheeses, or cereal, or analgesics. I must batch. I am in charge here. In spite of his wailing and moaning, no man has ever died from taking Midol by mistake.

And so now, I have decided that the books need rearranging. I'll thank myself later when I can find and deliver the exact salient quote or passage or date of publication, instead of floundering around for half the day wondering if I still have the book at all. I'm about halfway through the task, stopping occasionally to read this and that -- who can resist a little of this? A little of that?

And I don't have unlimited time here. I've got to get all these books back on the shelves as quickly as possible. If you want to see something funny, just check back in to see how I'm doing by about, say, the middle of October. Depending on the weather, the amount of sun left in the year, and the general slant of the earth, I'm usually face down in such a slump by then that it is a sorry, sorry sight to behold.

The energy, the enthusiasms -- they just go -- pffftttffft. I float back to earth all flattened and gray-skinned, heavy and wan. I prowl the pantry for pasta. I crave white creamy things. Loads of carbohydrates. I've barely enough energy by October to boil water, let alone move stuff around. That's why it's so crucial to have everything all nice and organized, close at hand.

But that bleak time is still weeks! maybe five full weeks away. I've got a lot to do between now and then. A lot to do.

See you ... in September!