Nothing’s going quite like I had planned, and I’m still not ready to decide if I’m okay with that. I haven’t been running consistently, I haven’t been staying on top of my work—it hasn’t even been as much work as I’d expected.

Remember that Freakonomics article I wrote for Fisher Ink? Well, I guess they were impressed by it, because for the next issue they assigned me a major story. The rough draft of which was due by noon on Wednesday—I still haven’t done it. (See what I mean by falling behind?) And then I just found out that I’m being featured as an “all star� in the next issue. Not only that, but I’ve been assigned the feature story: a three-page rundown on the presidential candidates’ positions on business issues.

Don’t get the wrong idea—I’m excited about all this, really. My goal was to be editor, and it looks like I’m on the right path. It’s just that I never took into account the time I’d need to devote to Fisher Ink. Plus, I’m not a good writer. I mean, some people tell me I’m a good writer, but I’m not. I’m a perfectionist that could easily spend ten minutes deciding on how to punctuate a sentence. In short, I’m a slow writer—and I’ve got to be in that certain writing mood.

I’m already looking forward to this weekend—since I have no classes on Fridays, it’s going to be four solid days of weekendness. I still have no idea what that entails. But it beats dodging deadlines during the week. One of these days, I’m going to trip; I’ve never been good at hurdling. (*Thinks fondly back on track.* You’ve lost me.)