I don’t get it, People.

What in God’s name is it that possesses me, at the worst of times and hours, to suddenly motivate?

Prime example: last night. I decide, at 11:40, I need to windex the mirror in the bathroom. Then open mail that’s been sitting in my handbag for a good two weeks and then make lists of other thank you’s I need to write.

Why is this?

Why, oh why, do I find it absolutely necessary to windex and do other meaningless tasks at the most inopportune of moments? And it’s not like I’m not tired, I am, I just … for some reason … find it the right time to do these things? I guess?

It’s truly puzzling.