This Week In Lights Out: Lists, Capsules, Viruses, Naps
Nine minutes from a pen, a lavender dose nobody prints, a cold virus up 164 noses, and the nap length that turns out to be ten minutes.
Four issues, and every one of them came down to a figure somebody forgot to pass on. Nine minutes saved by a pen, eighty milligrams in a capsule, the six-hour line that decides who catches a cold, and a nap far shorter than anybody guesses. None of these are new findings, and not one of them reached you through the people selling you things.
Here is the week, on four cards.
THE WEEK IN FOUR CARDS
MONDAY
Listing the jobs still undone beat journaling about today by nine minutes.
Five minutes on paper before the light goes off, written as specifically as you can bear.
Four figures, every one published years ago. None of them reached you, because nobody makes money telling a woman the useful figure.
If you only do one thing: put a pad and a pen beside your bed tonight.
WEEKEND CHALLENGE
Write the five-minute list on Saturday night, then again on Sunday.
Two nights is enough to notice something, and the weekend is when most women have five spare minutes to give it. Be ruthlessly specific, because that was the part that carried the effect.