There are days where I think writing, like thinking, should be banned. Neither one accomplishes anything other then trepidation, or perhaps procrastination. I’m far better at procrastination than trepidation, the thought of shaking in my boots makes me fear for the laces. Odd how my mind works.
“Procrastination is like Masturbation; In the end you’re just screwing yourself.”
In writing I can procrastinate on other things. Sitting at a computer limits the activities one can do. For instance, my dishes are not getting done. Wet hands and electrical items do not make for good bed fellows. The vacuuming can be put off to another day. Although I think I’m growing additional cats in my carpet. I know at one time the carpet was brown, now it’s white. Perhaps shaving my white cat would make vacuuming un-necessary?
“Procrastination is the bad habit of putting off until the day after tomorrow what should have been done the day before yesterday.”
The meer fact that I know I’m procrasti-writing means I have the sense, and audacity, to know it’s wrong. Audacity being the single minded attempt to pretend I don’t care that it’s wrong. I tell myself that by writing I’m accomplishing a greater task. I’m speaking to the public on the publics level. Knowing all the while that the public is likely publically laughing at my inability to play well with others.
“Procrastination is one of the most common and deadliest of diseases and its toll on success and happiness is heavy.”
My procrasti-writing generally takes on the form of rambling. If you can’t tell by the meanderings of thoughts already presented. Back to my shoe laces. Has anyone ever considered, for one moment, that perhaps, shoe laces may not like to be called laces? Or even shoe laces for that matter. Maybe they’d prefer George, or Ralph. Maybe even something far fancier like batrachophagous. One never knows until they ask. I’d ask but, I don’t speak shoe lace.
Procrastination is, hands down, our favorite form of self-sabotage.”
My mind takes lateral leaps. It’s not like quantum leaping, although that was an excellent series. Lateral leaping is finding the unusual in the usual. I call it stress relief but most would call it insanity. I contend that I’m perfectly sane – on Sundays. Having said that…
How soon ‘not now’ becomes ‘never’.”
I wonder how one would become a professional procrasti-writer? I could practice more. I’m open to that idea. I could start a new club for procrasti-writers…I’ll do that tomorrow. Maybe I’ll….nah, takes to much energy. I think for today I’ll just say:
May your words be many, your ideas brillant, your chores few, and your ability to enjoy them all be never ending.
Procrastination is the thief of time.”
Goodnight my friends!
Thinking Out Loud 