Okay, so I’m sitting in this little corner cafe, the one with the slightly wobbly wooden tables and the barista who remembers your usual after two visits. It’s Sunday, the sun is doing that perfect golden-hour thing through the window, and I’m supposed to be planning my week. My laptop is open, and instead of my usual chaotic mess of notes and tabs, there’s just this one, clean window. It’s my [orientdig spreadsheet](https://www.pandaspreadsheet.com). I know, I know. Spreadsheet. It sounds about as exciting as watching paint dry. That’s what I thought too. But hear me out. This all started because my brain felt like my closet on a Monday morning—a…