Odd that I should procrastinate while writing about procrastination. I suspect this was tied up with feelings of inadequacy after the trend of lame entries I’ve been writing, but still … I waited until the last possible moment to write this one. For shame.
I procrastinate to the point of utter, all-encompassing guilt, and then because I feel so guilty, I don’t want to think about it any more so I don’t just do the thing, I procrastinate further. Then it becomes this monumental task that can Never Be Completed because I’ve put it off so long. Why?
With writing, it is different. I don’t intentionally, consciously procrastinate writing. When I have something to write, I do it. Except for this journal entry, of course. I believe this has to do with not wanting to think about how much I procrastinate. I do it often. Embarrassed of that.
Chad often wonders, “Why don’t you just do it and get it over with?” He has the full-contact, mow-‘em-and-show-‘em philosophy of social interaction and personal achievement. I admire this. I cannot do this. I am truly incapable of getting things done the first time around. I’ve tried. Repeatedly.
It’s not that I’m incompetent, or lazy. I just create difficulties for myself. I put up obstacles because failing is so much easier than succeeding. Success scares me. I want to be really good at what I do, not just kind-of good. So it’s easier to be bad at things. Isn’t that pathetic? On the screen, it looks hopelessly pitiful.
And it is, dammit, I rally against myself. It makes no sense to procrastinate; things you have to do will still be there even if you don’t do them right away, so get them done. Things you don’t have to do but would like to do eventually will NEVER get done unless you do the things you have to do, right away. So it doesn’t even make sense to procrastinate.
I am easily distracted by sparklethings. Sparklethings are any objects, concepts, people, or places that emanate newness and spirit. The new TV card in Chad’s ‘puter distracts me. Distractions make it very easy for me to procrastinate. I can attack my to-do list with such excuses as, “Well, what if I get up from my chair to go clean the tub, trip and fall, crack my skull open on the bookcase, and die? I would have died for a stupid thing, cleaning the tub; instead I will sit here a while longer and enjoy my time with my friends and my toys.” Pathetic, isn’t it? Mm-hm.
It doesn’t help that I always have fifty or so projects going at any given time. I can’t stand to be only halfway busy. I must procrastinate on three, four different levels instead of just one. More productive that way (??).
[Author’s Note: I lost the rest of this entry due to an editor bug. If I ever get caught up, I might come back and write what I remember from that lost part. Otherwise, just assume it was startling and brilliant.]