So many targets, so little time. Or so little capacity to self-direct. Little projects tempt me into distraction. An article here, a little essay there. A photo book. A parody. A portfolio. The bliss of small achievements is fleeting but real. Rarely can you point to something concrete and say, "I made that," and then offer it for inspection and confirmation. And so sometimes a small object is necessary. An artist once explained to me that he painted a crushed pop can in the foreground to "hold down space." I think small achievements are like that, solid imperfections that hold down the space of our lives. They are functional, like good shoes. Take a breather. Rest easy. And then get up and keep moving because small achievements are never enough. . . . Yesterday, GM admitted it lost $8.6 billion in 2005, Hamas won elections in Palestine, Oprah confronted memoirist James Frey about his deceptive I-survived-addiction book A Million Little Pieces, and our gecko passed away from a bacterial infection that had spread throughout the gecko population at the pet store (unknown to us). Next week, Enron goes on trial, Bush delivers the State of the Union, and Alan Greenspan retires. Today is Mozart's birthday (27 January 1756). This weekend I will have my small achievements: the hunt for a new pet lizard, chores around the house, shuttling the kids to their events. A big project looms. I gotta start. Seriously. But first I have to sever my addiction to a million little pieces.