Here's what I saw this morning. I cut myself shaving -- my tissue was a red and white mess, a result of carelessness, rushed decisions and so forth. I shrugged it off and worked on a project for that place that, well, pays me and lets me log in here during the day far too much.

My notes seemed simple--seemed to flow--and were beautifully organized.

They were, I noticed later, written in black pen on a yellow background.

The only bad thing is, they were interesting enough I may miss tipoff for the chores I need to do.