It’s been days since I’ve written. It’s not that there’s nothing interesting… it’s that there is too much!

I’ve been studying pretty hard to determine where the portable applications options are falling these days. I still can’t find a cross-platform option I like, so I’m looking at those options I need to work on Windows machines AND those needed to function on a Linux box.

As these things unfold, and I learn more, I’ll share.

In the meantime, I’ve cleaned off my desk and organized all the drawers (no small feat), completed the revamp of my new Moleskine hack, have a financial system for the business that’s half digital/half paper that’s simply beautiful, and I’m trying to figure out how to deal with the fact that my youngest son will be leaving home in less than three weeks to begin his life solo.

(These days are hard on a mom.)

The havoc that has been my life is finally reorganizing… and my ability to carve out some personal time from all my responsibilities is becoming a reality. The ironic part is that I’ve been crazed since January, and just as I start to get things together and begin to feel human again… Byron is packing his bags to leave.

I hope to be able to take a couple days off work as soon as school is out and spend them knocking around with my son. He’s so busy and I’m so busy that I miss him lately, and soon I’ll miss him even more — and from a distance.

You know, my parents should be given a medal. Other people in my life have to tolerate my moods, my latest kicks and my never-ending jabbering when I’m worried, excited or “all stoked up” about something. My parents endure it — regularly.

I’m all about the getting rid of stuff right now. I’ve renewed the fevor of my disgust with the consumptive, collective hoarding habits of our society in general and with my own tower of possessions, in particular. I mean, really, how much “stuff” does one person need?!?!

So when I get excited about a project, like my current one of eliminating all the clutter and trimming my possessions to a bare minimum, it would be my parents that have to listen to my incessant chatter about it.

I feel for them. My own daughter wears me out with her constant talking, but I can tell her to hush, or send her into the other room when I’m at wit’s end. My parents are nicer than me.

Someday I may learn how to quit talking with that voice in my head says, “For God’s sake, shut up!” In the meantime, I’m thankful for my parents.

Who knows, maybe I’ll learn to be more tolerant of Alex’s jabbering…once she’s in her 40′s. Perhaps, she will be a faster learner than her mother and will be capable of listening to that voice in her head when it says “stop talking,” — but I think her maternal genetics will be working against her. Poor thing.