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I'd never been inside The Container Store before, so I had no idea there were so many things you could put other things into! Craving organization for my sloppy work area, I perused every aisle slowly, with David pushing the cart behind me. I picked up bins for my collection of Readers, which caused David to sigh with relief as he thought, It's about time she moved those huge stacks off of my speakers. I got a trashcan for my desk, a holder for my pens, and a few other knickknacks I never knew I couldn't live without on the way to the register.

Getting out of Fashion Valley's parking lot is almost as difficult as getting in, minus the frustration of finding a spot. We pulled out quickly because there was a smiling woman waiting patiently for the spot. When we got home, I thought about getting back to my work, but first I had to put my Readers in chronological order and file them into their new containers. When I was finished (at 4:36 p.m.), I felt productive. But something was amiss. It was my hair: I hadn't showered, and my hair was coming out of its hastily assigned style. I thought a shower might refresh me enough to get me motivated to the point where I would start typing like the wind.

My shower was long, and I was right -- it was refreshing. Half-dressed and smelling of the musky, feminine fragrance of Victoria's Secret's "Very Sexy for Her" (another gift from Steph), I sat back in my chair and contemplated the cursor. My eyes kept darting to the top right corner of my screen, where the digital clock is displayed. I watched as the minutes ticked from 5:25 to 5:39. I opened some dialogue with myself about possible topics to discuss in my column. The exclusive party I attended on Friday night? The lunch I enjoyed with my sisters and niece? I entertained ideas, conversations, and memories in my mind, until finally, I said, "You know, David, I think I have enough time to get this done tomorrow. What say we go get a pizza and rent a movie?"

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