There are some very methodical minds out in the world. Generally, they have no sense of humor and seem to have no whimsy imagination. If you started a joke off by saying, "A man and a duck walked into a bar..." one with such a mind probably interrupt to say a duck would not be allowed in a bar. I bet those same people go bananas watching a Disney or Warner Brothers cartoon.
Anyway, according to Uncle John’s Bathroom Reader 2009 page-a-day calendar Orville Wright numbered the eggs his chickens would lay in order, so he could eat them in order. That makes sense. It makes sense for a compulsive methodical mind.
I, on the other hand, hardly have enough methodical sense about me to set a clock. The only method I claim is that there "is a method to my madness."