It’s Sunday as I write this and, despite parking myself in the office chair at 6 AM, I have managed to find every possible way to put off writing today – breakfast … tea … a 30-minute travelogue on Argentina’s wine region … more tea … shower … Mass … 15-minute nap … coffee … snack.
So here I am, finally, staring at a writer’s best and worst friend – the blank page – and contemplating why exactly it’s taken me six hours to actually get here. To that end, I share with you five sure signs of procrastination:
- You’ve updated your Facebook status six times in six hours – and none of the posts are interesting. I mean, did people really need to know that I hope to get a long walk in later today? No. Granted, there was some wit sprinkled in there so it wasn’t all useless, but the components of my breakfast don’t count. (P.S. Wit always gets dispensation in my book, as it requires thought. And timing.)
- You go on MeetUp.com to check for upcoming gatherings and sift through the schedule for the entire tri-state area – even those of groups you aren’t in – to see what’s going on in the next week. You join three new groups, including one of ping-pong players, then realize it’s BYOP (Bring Your Own Paddle). Furiously e-mail parents to inquire about the paddles sitting with the table in the basement.
- You’ve flipped between two country music channels 16 times only to find each playing the same songs over and over. I mean, I love Blake Shelton (really love Blake Shelton), but every time I turn on CMT, it’s the All About Tonight video – I’ve seen it four times already today. Not only is it just now Noon, but I was out of the house for an hour this morning, thus narrowing the window even further.
- You rip through your kitchen searching for something sweet. Challenging on many levels since, first, I don’t keep sweets in the house. Secondly, if I did keep such vices around, truth be told, they’d more likely involve Cheetos, Pringles or potato chips, as I’m a salt girl. How irrational!
- You make the bed, clean the bathroom and fold the rest of the laundry with a sense of domestic urgency that would render Martha Stewart speechless. Oh yeah, sure, that had to be done. Needed a good hospital corner this morning.
The remedy? I’ll let you know when Blake’s video is over.