While I doubt that my brain will pop up in some random part of the universe as a ball of yarn, I must admit that what you read here will not have any obvious order. A good writer might jot ideas on note cards, prepare an outline and approach their art with some form of order. Well, not I. My English teachers would be appalled. Tough.
My mind works much like one of those spastic fountain at overly merchandised theme parks found in California and Florida. You know, the water spits up over your head and lands in a pool on the other side of the walkway only to spit up somewhere else into yet another pool and so on.
Maybe, if you are lucky and I am manic I will organize the sidebar. Doubtful.
Coffee and overcoats. Is this woman, writing in the third person and ignoring common proper grammar, mad? As a hatter, Alice.