Procrastination is like my favorite thing.
I love it.
When I am procrastinating, I suddenly become this strange, ultra-high-functioning human that never stops moving. You know what I mean? Like, if I have to prepare for something big; a trip, a speaking engagement, a dinner party at my house, or whatever, I will do approximately one million things that have virtually zero significance in relation to the thing for which I am preparing. One. Million.
And that is why, by 1 o’clock this afternoon, I had cleaned out my closet, mopped the floors, gone to the grocery store, cleaned the fridge, stopped by the bank, run to the vet to buy flea stuff, and read a chapter of a book. All of that happened, because, really? I need to pack.
I need to put some clothes in a bag and zip it up. It’s not a hard thing. And it’s the one and only thing that I NEED to do today.
I. need. to. pack.
And that’s why I’m writing a blog… and baking a cheesecake….
It’s called procrasturbating; Putting off what MUST be done in order to fulfill immediate carnal desires. Cheesecake, anyone?
El Chupacabra even noticed how much more I’ve been getting done these last few days. He said if he could, he would send me to the states once a month, because my intensely productive procrastinating has made his life a dream come true….
Seriously. The house is clean, the fridge is stocked, the laundry is put away. And when he gets home from work I follow him around like a manic puppy, eyes wide, tail wagging, panting, “Is there anything I can do for you?”
He likes that. And he has procrastination to thank.
Last night, when he walked in to our room at 10:30 and I was furiously peddling away on the stationary bike, he was all, “What are you doing?!”
And I was like, “I’m packing for my trip…. Duh.”What about you? Are you a procrastinator or a….whatever they call people that do stuff when they should?