Procrastination

I remember once many years ago sitting down to lunch with a friend somewhere. She was getting married that summer and was telling me of some of the many things she needed to get done. She sort of laughed after listing one or two and noted that she was procrastinating in accomplishing them. Then she looked at me as if to ask if I understood the meaning of that word. It was then I realized that it’s not in my character to procrastinate.

Now don’t get me wrong – I do procrastinate certain tasks. Mainly phone calls. I hate making phone calls. I put them off at work. I put them off at home. I don’t know what it is about them I hate so much, but I’d do just about anything over making phone calls. Of course, I do make them. Especially if it can’t be put off. And no one on the other side of the phone has ever reached out and tried to kill me. But I still hate them.

I use to think I didn’t procrastinate because of the way I was raised. In our home, chores got done and then you could do whatever you liked. I quickly learned that if I fulfilled my responsibilities right off the bat, I had more time to read, or write, or whatever I wanted. Taking this lesson with me wherever I went, it would annoy me to no end that those I worked with dawdled over this or that and then wondered why there was no free time to be had. Mmh…I wonder why…

Granted, once I moved from home and lived either alone or with a roommate whom I passed like a ship in the night many days in a row, I let my full-steam ahead ways drop a little. After all, I wasn’t really responsible to anyone but myself anymore, so I could put off the vacuuming at least one more day. Now my world has changed again.

First of all, I can’t plan on a schedule lasting more than four or five days. And I’m still adjusting to the fact that that shall likely be the case for many years now that I’m a mom. However, it still works to get my jobs done and then I will have some time to do more than cook, and clean, and work. Last week I even wrote an entire chapter of a book that has been sitting aside for months. I can’t say how wonderful it was to write again. Or how hard it is that all I have to accomplish this week is not going to allow for it. Maybe next week…and maybe not.

But while I can’t write, the house is clean, meals are cooked, Emry is cared for and Ed has clean clothes. No procrastinating. Except a phone call I need to make. But I’ll do it tomorrow. I promise.