Diary of a Procrastinating Perfectionist
March 20th Today, the clock taunted me with its mocking hands, pointing to three hours of pure, unadulterated productivity. But alas, capricious fate had other plans, as the mountain of work before me morphed into the nagging voice of an orderly conscience. That’s when the spirit of tidiness possessed me with unprecedented zeal. My files, those ancient guardians of chaos, cried out for organization. The drawers, dark abysses of forgotten mysteries, begged for light and order....