when i was little, my mother constantly yelled at me when we arrived at destinations (the grocery store, the library, etc.) because i hadn't put my shoes on in the car. i would promise to, but i would inevitably wait until we got there and she would stand outside the car impatiently as i slowly tied my laces. as i got older, my mother bought me mountain dew to keep me up the night before an english paper was due. and now, it is the seventh of the month, and i have yet to pay my bills. where is my mother? retired in the mountains as she should be. after all, i am thirty-four.
i don't blame my mother's enabling of my procrastinating tendencies for my persisting issues. it is a default property in my brain, my natural way of being, and no matter how i try, i cannot help it. it is how i operate. but despite my acceptance of my weakness, it still causes constant frustration and chaos, loss of sleep, heart palpitations. and lectures from non-procrastinating "do it now" people make me want to drill a hole in my head. a. i know all that already. b. say it til you're blue in the face, i'm still going to wind up paying a late fee. c. you don't have the procrastinating gene, so shut the hell up.
perhaps some research will yield some scientific evidence of my theory, and i can claim procrastination as a disability and get a silver medical bracelet that says, "procrastinator. please call my mother." until then, i will have to settle for the gratifying fact that my procrastination keeps the public library (and blockbuster, and FSU, and gilchrist elementary) in business.
1 comment:
Just wasting some time instead of doing actual work.
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