They say to procrastinate is to delay or put something off for later. But just just how much later?
I sit here, at home, having taken half the day off to work from home. Just so I can have myself some uninterrupted, focused time to get a 300-word article out of the way. And yet here I am, 4 hours later. With zilch. Nada.
I think its safe to say that this week, I have set an all new record for myself. Quick, someone give me the medal for Best Procrastinator of all time.
I’m trying to find reasons why. To justify this utterly hopeless behaviour. It hasn’t helped that the energy high and the landslide of work that I was inundated with hasn’t really cleared up. So while I’ve had the energy to keep going, I haven’t been able to knock things off as soon as I’d like to. I had all the right intentions to sit and work through it on the weekend, so I can go to work on Monday with a clean slate. But you know how it is. When the body is willing, the mind seldom is. Especially when more compelling things like jam-making (which bee-tee-double-youu, was excellent. Will post about it on the food blog the moment I have a clear head and some breathing space, phewwww.) and general states of extreme laziness take over.
But there’s a difference between extreme laziness where one unwinds and relaxes completely, and extreme laziness you’re lazing on the outside, but inside your head there’s a constant buzz. That’s the sound of you running through a task-list. On repeat. This weekend, I shut down trying to do anything concrete. But I couldn’t shut down the voices in my head. The voices that repeatedly told me I’m very, very screwwwwed.
Anyhoo, so here I am. Bang in the face of a deadline I might just miss. It doesn’t help that all through last week and yesterday and today I’ve felt like I’m constantly running on a treadmill. Because what that makes me feel is guilt-less. No remorse. And you know what that makes me want to do? Procrastinate some more. So help me God.