A Preference to Procrastinate

ClocksIf you’ve ever tried to write anything that will be read by others, you probably understand that you can’t simply sit down and watch the words magically fill the page.  I wish, but it just doesn’t happen.  At least not for me.  In fact, most of the time I’m a terrible procrastinator.  There always seems to be something that just has to get done right at that moment:  clothes in the wash, walk the dog, new pot of tea…yeah.

The desk in my new home office sits right in front of the window.  I enjoy having the window there and it is usually wide open so as to enjoy the noisy frogs and birds.  But if I’m trying to force something onto paper it’s as if my inner Gladys Kravitz comes out.  You know, the nosy neighbor from Bewitched.  Oh sure, I try to stay on task, but the occasional car going by can be distracting.  And why do so many people go to the house across the street?  See what I mean.  Come on, Gladys, snap out of it!

Sometimes the procrastination game actually works for me.  Perhaps more often than not, truth be told.  If I busy myself with a task, it’s quite likely that my brain will wander off a bit.  That’s the curse (blessing) of the right-brained multi-tasker, it’s hard to concentrate on just one thing.  But when my thoughts meander back down the path, there’s usually something interesting coming along for the ride.  That’s when I sprint for my computer or trusty composition notebook and let the thoughts spill out across the page like water from a fire hose.

Most regimented people probably wouldn’t understand this.  My mother, for example, was a secretary.  Her schedule was given to her, her tasks assigned to her, and when the whistle blew the day was done.  I don’t think it makes sense to her that I sometimes work at odd hours or in odd places.  When she calls and asks what I’m doing, I never know if I should tell her I’m gawking out the window.  She might think I’m cracking up.  I guess I’ll just tell her I’m working and stare out the window.  I’ve said it before, deadlines amuse me.


One response to this post.

  1. Posted by Rosanne Perala on June 17, 2014 at 8:01 am

    Hi, You do amuse me. I guess I got the regimentation from being raised on the farm. Cows in the barn at certain hours, milking done to catch the milk truck, weeds to be pulled from the strawberry patch so the berries could grow big and get taken to the station. Then making the wood for winter, weeding mom’s garden, washing every darn Monday and always hanging outside. Sure hated those curtain washing times when we had to pin those lacy things on the curtain stretchers. Ever hear of them? Then you had to schedule schooling in, cheerleading and of course time with your friends. We’d spend nights at each other’s houses and too tired to stay up late. All asleep by nine. Days that I probably wouldn’t trade as it taught me to be the mother/wife I was. Maybe good or bad? I leave that up to you kids. Loved you all though so much. Mom


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