The enormous, intimidating, months-in-the-making pile in my home inbox has been processed -- the trash can is bulging and I have 12 pieces of mail to go out. All the answering machine messages have been listened to, deleted, and the one useful call returned. The last load of laundry is in the washing machine. In short, I rule, except the paper hasn't been started and I still have god's own pile of O-chem to finish.
Now fretting about how to fit together the paper and the homework with the absolutely required, not optional, grocery run.