3:17 p.m. An experiment in multitasking going on here, right here ... right now. Here's what I've learned, so far, in life:

-- do the hardest thing first.

Think of your work load as if it were a clump or a big knot. (If you have to think about it at all, believe me, you are at the knot stage.) Now, the thing you want to do is to move your work through the pipelines, through the proper channels, get the flow going ... get things moving concurrently. One thing after the other, ding dang done.

But there's a glob mucking up the works. So you have to take out your handy imaginary stick and just stab at it -- right through the center of it. No use beating it around the edges. You've got to break the glob up into smaller pieces. Just about any kitchen imagery you can imagine will work.

You almost always know what's the toughest thing facing you across your desk. It might as well have a blinking red led light on it -- it's that obvious. So, before you do anything else, grab up that difficult thing and do *something,* *(anything)* you can to get it on its way.

Start the first sentence. Frame it out. Make the phone call. Write the letter. Pick at the mess of it ... whatever it takes ... just stare it square in the eye and get it started.

That's what I do. Or rather, that's what I've learned how to do. I've learned that avoiding the too big or too difficult or too ugly job is the surest way to ruin the rest of my day. No amount of make work and game playing will feel good if that monster in the closet isn't hauled out and made to heel.

So -- that's what I did this morning. Starting right in on a difficult proposal that's hard to write, hard to think about, hard to conceive, hard to write. Hard. But I started it and now that I can honestly take a break from it, I'm able to happily pop over to the jobs that are not as hard.

(organize my fonts! yeah!)

(scan in some really cute cartoons from the last century and stockpile them for later. yeah!)

(write my daily happy piece: hello!)

Okay -- now it's back to the monster.

1:53 a.m. Well, the monster just about ate the rest of the day, but at least I made some attempt to beat it with a stick. The trouble with my theory is that come tomorrow morning, I'm going to be right back where I was -- the clog may be in smaller pieces, but it's still an obstruction. Things still aren't flowing through.

I am most certainly not in the Zone. I will be in the Zone once I know exactly what I'm doing, how much longer it's going to take, and how I can polish it and make it better ...

I wonder if other people have tasks they're afraid of facing every day? Parts of their jobs they don't think they're very good at, and so they avoid avoid avoid that feeling of inadequacy as long as they possibly can? Big old clogs that just don't seem to break up very easily?

Does anyone look at the day ahead and just roll up his sleeves and do each and every little thing that needs to be done? Maybe. But then, did he call his mother? Did he smile at the homeless guy and give him a dollar? Did he bounce the toddler on his knee for a solid hour? Finish his thesis?

Yes? He did?

I knew it. 

I've got to pull out my Photoshop manual and try harder. And then after I increase my sponging and dodging skills, I'm going to have to learn how to pick up the phone and ask for a couple more days.

But one thing at a time. Concurrency. First, I cower. Second, I hide. Third, I panic.