One of the many truths I hold to be self-evident is that a vast majority of artists and freelancers (often one and the same) suffer from undiagnosed--and therefore self-medicated--ADD and OCD, as well as narcissism, megalomania coupled with wild insecurity and a tendancy towards mood swings. These people are either in their apartments for days at a time alternately freaking out and creating things or out in the world desperately seeking to cure their boredom with the only thing that really interests them: the creation of and participation in total chaos.

I am in one of those apartment-dwelling phases. Just me and the congealing risotto and the mounds and mounds of work I need to get done in order to continue eating the yuppie cheeses I so enjoy. This explains why today I have measured my apartment for new shelves, calculated the amount of speaker wire I will need to optimize my stereo setup, planned a week-long mid-October music marathon (spanning boy-punk, girl-punk, co-ed punk, guitar rock, folk/country and hip-hop) and harshly edited my closet of "sentimental pants," (pants that you only keep for sentimental reasons). In other words, I've done everything but what I should be doing, which is ghostwriting a political rant for a charming octogenarian leftist named Selma.

But this pathological procrastination has yielded one uniquely illuminating moment. Just when I finally commenced to actually do today's Selma allotment, I was suddenly struck with the idea that the picture that is sitting on my desk would look better on the windowsill by the bed. I jumped up and put the picture on the windowsill.

Back at the desk, I noticed that without the picture, which has a lot of trees, the vista was too black-and-white. I wanted the picture to go back where it was.

So I pressed Control+Z (a.k.a. the "Undo Last Action" hot key) on my computer keyboard.