Fiorella doesn't really multi-task--after all,she only has three hands. But she does dovetail extensively, like every morning when she brings in the newspaper, then opens her laptop and, while it is finding itself, starts reading said newspaper. When the computer finally bongs at her, she switches back to it to skim the news, check e-mail, and write to you, after which she finishes the newspaper, saving the crossword to do while she eats breakfast.
Her trips away from home always involve at least three stops, and she often pauses in a parking lot to jot down story ideas. Her meetings with friends always involve a meal too.
It's a sort of time management, manipulating her days, hours, and minutes to cram as much as she can into them, and Fio's done it since she was a child. In fact, she remembers being heavily involved in playing cowboys and Indians on Barbara Tromer's big side yard one day and suddenly getting a sick feeling in her stomach as she realized she had been unaware of how much time must have passed.
And she never wants to have that feeling again.