Every now & then, I think I should start a large project. Something on the order of the Pyramids. I think it is a flaw, or a megalomaniacal gene, that's built into me at a cellular level.  Something that makes me want to tackle some idea so huge that not only won't I ever see the end of it, but I'll give fodder to later generations of my family to take to therapy when it's their turn to shoulder the work. My Pyramids usually take the form of an encyclopedia...

Fortunately, I usually sketch the outline of the project out on a napkin & it gets left behind in the restaurant, or gets bits of food & ketchup on it, so it's entirely illegible later on when I take it out of my pocket. My family should thank me more often than they know. (Except maybe not. Ellen just did a blog entry on her site & it's all about HER projects. This might be the reason my family seems unconcerned about my megalomania. They've all got their own version of it going on...)

In earlier ages, people called this sort of thing a folly. Not much has changed. It's still a folly. Only now, it's called a visionary conceptual work (but, really, who are we trying to kid?..)