She set up a “hidden” camera in every room, so she could watch the tapes and follow her movements throughout the house. For the first week, she simply erased the tapes and taped over them. She was still too aware of the cameras.

Starting about midway through the second week, however, she began gradually slipping into her old patterns. She studied the tapes, mapping her hours spent at work at her computer and her activities during her breaks.

Increasingly, she was also able to map her thinking, watching with some amusement, fascination, and then embarrassment as her patterns and distractions unfolded before her eyes. She smiled as she saw herself stalking the annoying fruitfly for several minutes, finally clapping her hands and then wiping it off of her palm.

Then she watched her surfing patterns from the vantage point of the camera looking over her shoulder. She observed, and duly noted, exactly what distracted her and how, valuable information in terms of marketing strategies and webpage design.

Finally, the embarrassing distractions…not only could she follow her actions, but her thoughts were naked as well. She watched herself as she tried to jot down some ideas in her notebook but the pen wouldn’t write. Disassembling it, she found that, indeed, it was out of ink.

She paused for a moment – she was contemplating throwing it away or was it worth purchasing a refill? She put it down, deferring the decision until another time.

Remembering another pen upstairs in a bedroom drawer, she walked into the kitchen. Instead of just passing through, she stopped to scrub the wok soaking in the sink. Then she wiped off the counters, wiped down the stovetop, and saw that the floor needed sweeping.

She recalled noticing that the children had taken the broom outside the day before; sure enough, it was not in its usual place by the mudroom door. Walking outside, she rearranged the children’s wet clothes hanging on the railing, and saw the dustpan in the driveway.

No broom in sight. But there was paper trash blown all over the driveway and into the road. Picking up the bag that had obviously been taken out of the car and then dropped, she tucked the dustpan under her arm and retrieved all the trash. Gathering up the garden hose left extended across the front yard, she coiled it neatly.

Looking around the yard, she noticed the children had not picked up their toys as asked. Since the landlady lives right across the street, she figured she’d better tidy up the yard as well instead of waiting for the children to get home from school. Once the bicycles were put away and all the toys and lawn furniture rearranged, she continued the search for the broom, to no avail.

Back in the kitchen, she made the turn to go into the family room, on her way to the stairs, but noticed that there were dirty smudges on the mirror. After washing the mirror, she went upstairs and checked the children’s room for the broom.

She’d left her shoes at the door, so when she stepped on the wet diaper on the floor, her socks became wet immediately. Going into her bedroom to change into dry socks, she observed her laundry bag overflowing, and remembered that her sheets needed washing too.

She stripped the linen off the bed and took the laundry downstairs to wash. After starting the first load, she returned to her computer, only to realize that she still didn’t have a working pen.

She got up and passed through the kitchen, hitting the on button on the electric teapot as she passed by, ran upstairs with her eyes closed so she wouldn’t get distracted, and almost stopped to make her bed. She laughed, catching herself before she started, grabbed a pen and ran back downstairs, tripping on a doll on the bottom step and twisting her ankle.

Hobbling to her computer, she sat down with a sigh. Her ankle hurt too much to allow her to get up for another two hours. Finally! something forced her to focus on her work.

Until she leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes, and softly began snoring…thank god that teakettle has an automatic shut-off…

She turned off the video machine and sat in shock for a few moments. Observing her actions for those hours, actions that bared her thoughts so unequivocally as well, made her wish she could keep them private.

Instead, she put them all into her tote, checked the clock, and ran to try to make her appointment with her business productivity counselor on schedule. She arrived in his office, feeling like Lady Godiva as they watched the videos together.

Her next assignment: share the tapes with her boss, identify the issues, work through them. There’s a reason she hasn’t taken time off to pleasure herself with her vibrator while filming, even though it is her favorite way to unwind during a 15-minute break. Mental nudism is difficult enough to reveal.

Should she be completely honest in documenting her “normal activities” during her workday? She felt that mental nudity was all she could expose to her boss, but the dishonesty bothered her.

Is omission of sexual activities dishonesty? The question haunts her…to be continued…