I’ve been working on my filing throughout the afternoon. There was a bleak period around 4:37 when the flat table looked like this.

But I turned my head 90 degrees and noted that my shelves, which had formerly looked like this:

…now looked like this:

And now, four hours later, they look like this:

It didn’t really take that much time or energy, all told, yet this is the sort of organization I have been craving for months. Or has it been years? Looking up at those even rows of intuitively organized files makes my heart three times lighter than it was at noon today. I will wake tomorrow ready to launch into the creative phase of this writing experiment.

Or perhaps I won’t. Perhaps I’ll lie in bed all day, reveling in the organization of my life and giving myself a pass. I think it unlikely. To me, a day in bed is like a trip to the beach. I understand the appeal, but I can’t get around the obvious downsides. The beach is hot, crowded, and cannot be reached without driving through traffic. A day in bed is dull, boring, and dull. There is so much to do that can’t be done in bed. There is so much to see that can’t be seen in bed.

Perhaps I should spend a day of this sabbatical in bed, just to see what I can make of it. I’ll let you know if I get up the nerve to do it. Any suggestions for how I might spend my time?