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Just take a standard 3x3 sticky note and draw three lines down. Try to draw them straight and equidistant. Then turn it sideways and draw four lines across. This is your day. These are twenty little squares which define what you must do before you call it done. Anyone can do twenty things in a day, can't they? You can't count eating a meal or taking a shower or anything like that. You can only count things that would qualify as work. Check them off as you finish.

People like to badmouth Cotton Mather and the whole "dead white man" work ethic, but it's very important to your life. Laziness is harmful. Sloth will lead to depression and, God knows, we have more than enough depressed folks running around already. In lands where twenty little chores would seem like just an hour's work and where folks know what it means to "starve to death," you don't see a whole lot of depression. You see desperation, but that's an entirely different animal.

Desperation is juicy. You can taste the magnificence of it. Depression is chewy and leaves a wad in your mouth like beef jerky that's overcooked. You can't quite get it down, even after you've gotten every furious calorie out of it. Desperation tastes like the last perfectly cooked chicken on a stick at the backyard party to which you weren't invited but snuck into anyway, knowing that you just might be the one who ate it all so there would be none left for those who made you miserable to begin with. The satisfaction is overwhelming, just like the abject horror when you're caught chewing and the fence is too high to climb over now that your belly's full.

Work should be a lifetime of desperation. Embrace it. Learn to despise the feeling of impending doom from prolonged inactivity. Break it down into a manageable system. How do you think anything ever got done around here?