I've still not finished transcribing the entries I hand-wrote while laid-up on the couch. They're good entries, don't misunderstand. It's just... I'm so done with transcribing. I'm so done with this back thing.

And yet, I'm not. My back is still out. Geez. I look and feel every bit a shriveled grandma, hobbling around here, grunting with every step. I called Mum and asked her if there are any tricks she's found that knock it back in place. None. "It's like a pinched nerve," she told me. "At least, that's what Poppy's doctors and my doctors have always said. Just gotta wait."

Wait? The great and wiry gage steele? Wait? You must be joking. There are things to be done! Wait? What is that? Good lord, it isn't even language I comprehend. Mum knows me better! She must! Tell her own child to wait. Honestly. Has she forgotten who I am?

Hello, Mum? Remember me? I'm the kid that had so many projects and commitments at once, I insisted there ought to be a way to appropriate ones unused hours to those that really need them. And I'm telling you, Mum, I need 36-hour days. Sunrise to sunrise, not fewer than 36. To add the task of waiting? Shoot, I'd need 48.

I spoke with Therapy Dude about this very thing Thursday. He used the old "burning the candle at both ends" cliche'. I've never liked that phrase. It would imply burning out, and I just don't feel burnt out. The way I figure, I'm just one of those people for whom national averages don't apply. You know the ones. "Most people spend 24 years of their lives sleeping." "Most people spend 5 years of their lives on the phone." "Most people..."

I'm just not a "most people." There are too many things to do. To see. To read. To learn.

I want a bank of televisions on this wall, here, each set tuned to a different station. VCRs to match would be nice. And there, I want the good-lord-it's-on-meth computer. You know, the one that takes voice commands for any-every-all things. I'll need a hands-free phone, if you please, with at least two lines. I could use a good stereo over there. You know, for playing all those books-on-tape.

It's about multitasking. "Most people" don't do it. In fact, Manly doesn't at all. He's always looking at me with this puzzled, dopey expression. Like I've just spoken in Rumanian, or something.

"Uhm... What are you doing?" he'll ask.

"Which when where?"

Because, you see, I multitask. I cannot do just one thing at a time. Oh my god. How slowly the world moves then. No, I can't stand it! I read while watching the news, talking on the phone, and cooking dinner. I surf the net, chat Best Girlfriend through a computer problem, write this, fold laundry, and read e-mail. I drive, eat, teach Babe the alphabet, listen to Stephen King's latest, and compose chapters in my head. I have to. I don't have enough time.

And if I already don't have enough, where am I going to find time to wait?