Today is Saturday, August 4, 2007... the 233rd day of the year. A quick bit of cyphering tells me that 132 days remain, conceivably enough time to get something right before this year's window slams shut and the New Year begins. First, right out of the chute, you must know. I am a total fraud. Try as I might to create a standard of behavior unflinchingly rigid by anyone’s definition, I, the least organized of all random beings ever assembled on the face of God’s green earth, am writing 8-4-07’s blog during the extremely late evening of 8-3-07...

I know... I’m hideous... look away.  Divert your eyes. 

Therefore, as one pledged to resist such blatant displays of unprovoked planning, I have failed horribly in my mission. My shame knows no boundaries and I humbly beseech all of you to forgive my transgression. I can only ask that you allow me the opportunity to once again venture forth into an otherwise unforgiving world, dodging mortar-launched reason and tip-toeing around booby-traps of logic placed like Sirens of Odysseus constantly trying to run me aground on Agamemnon’s shores of order. 

Why do I suddenly feel the urge to run headlong into my bedroom and alphabetize my socks?

Oh, learn from me my brethren and sistern! Foul omens pervade our universe.  The burgeoning professional football season threatens us with odious portents of organization! Run away... run away.  Resist with all your might!

Sleep through your alarms, refuse to show up for work on time, defy the natural laws of selection by choosing the most undesirable mate possible! Refuse to make selections from all five major food groups. Drive your car on the wrong side of the road whenever possible. We’re at war here, people!

Well, I'd better stop, I'm getting emotional. Plus, I have to finish this before I reach my self-imposed ten-minute deadline... if the buzzer goes off before I'm finished, I force myself to drink two shots of Chivas Regal, and we all know where that could lead. And remember... real writers never edit.