In the past few weeks I’ve started to track how I spend my time. Not to the minute, but every hour or so during the day, I jot down what I’ve done during the past 60 minutes. Like many of us, I’d like to be more productive, so I thought a time tracker might be a good place to start.

I stood at the podium at center stage and surveyed the auditorium.

The balcony was empty, as were most of the first floor seats, save for my 20 or so eighth grade classmates.

“O.Henry,” I began. “Who was he?”

My cousin’s wife walked into the funeral home.

She wore a sequined top that shone in the afternoon sunlight, and as she greeted us all with hugs announced “I wore this because I thought it was the kind of top Aunt Juanita would love.”