Procrastination is the choice I make to not have to tackle situations in my life that I would rather leave undone - situations where I am unsure and bewildered - so I hide my head in the sand, drag my feet, stall for time, and neglect the inevitable, all the while filling my journey with much unnecessary anxiety.


Procrastination
by Beverlee Blampied (c) 2010     

Procrastinate - oh how I hate
When I just wait to do things late
Is this my fate - to make everything late
Simply because I procrastinate
Why do I even have this trait
I speculate
That I'm trying to create
An idyllic state
Where no-one would berate
No-one would dictate, people would tolerate
Everyone would appreciate 
At any rate
To set things straight
I subconsciously try to recreate 
A carefree state
That ultimately could now translate
To something so innate
That that is why 
I procrastinate

Seasonal Projects

I woke up sleepily, around 6.m. this morning, with a feeling of anxiety in the pit of my stomach. Today is Tuesday and my weekly writing assignment is due today at 12:30 p.m.  I had procrastinated long enough and I had not yet even been able to decide which of the 5 homework options I would choose to write about. With only a few hours left until class, I knew I had to put my thinking cap on and attempt to put a story together. I slowly rolled over and sat up on the edge of the bed, reached for pen and notebook and resolved not to move until I was able to determine topic and plot. 

A flash of creative thought and I suddenly had it - I would write a story about the upcoming writer's class and me with no story on the horizon, and relate it somehow to the problem I was having dealing with the completing of some of my seasonal projects. The reason for the absence of a story was, of course, my procrastination problem - the same procrastination issue I had with the mountain of outstanding/unfinished seasonal projects, both large and small, that were clamoring for my attention. 

Over time, I have realized that the solution to my procrastination problem is to make a priority list, so, with a furious suddenness, I started listing all the jobs in the forever queue, waiting to be worked on. The more my list grew, the more my anxiety-itis - a debilitating disease where I become more and more anxious until a kind of fear sets in and takes over - and today I'm again fearfully convinced that nothing will ever get accomplished. But I begin the process and rationalize that if all goes well, I should be able to check off each item, and in a few days my seasonal projects could be completed - the windows would be washed and shining, the balcony would be cleaned and clear of the summer flowers and plants and the summer furniture would be packed neatly away in the storage room, which would have been rearranged for their accommodation, the fall clothes would be neatly hung in the reorganized cupboards, with the summer outfits laundered and packed away for the long winter months - etc. and ad infinitum!

With the time spent composing my list, an hour had slipped by and I panicked, realizing that I now had one hour less in which to write my story for class. My head was cluttered with overworked thoughts and I wondered that with my mindset, could it be possible that it was normal for me to procrastinate and be indecisive, even when I applied myself to be otherwise - was it a sort of inevitableness? After all, I reasoned, I was able, on occasion, to write a story and/or put words to rhyme for poetry.

Perhaps stopping to eat breakfast - a cup of steaming aromatic coffee and a wonderfully tasty Montreal bagel, made with water and baked in a stone wall oven and smothered in cream cheese and lox - would provide some incentive - or was I again finding a way to procrastinate?

Slowly sipping my coffee, and lost in the thoughts in my head, I became suddenly aware that through this thought process, my story had actually written itself, and the bonus was that I now also had a list on hand to give me direction on completing my seasonal projects. Who would have guessed!