Saturday, February 7, 2015

Oops, I did it again

You see my problem is this
I'm dreaming away
Wishing that heroes, they truly exist
I cry, watching the days
Can't you see I'm a fool in so many ways
But to lose all my senses
That is just so typically me
Oh baby, oh
Oops, I did it again

Sweet God of mercy, WHY am I such a procrastinator?  All I do is stress myself out!  I should know better.  I DO know better.  Great googly moogly, why do I do this to myself?

Don't ask what I procrastinated about.  It's just one more in a very long line of my death defying deadlines that set my heart racing and my heartburn churning.  And here I was feeling good about some of the things I had managed to accomplish - I got my blood taken for testing; I went to my doctor's office and got another referral for the colonoscopy I've managed to avoid for 12 years; I zipped into Publix and picked up the cake mix I needed to make the blueberry muffins; and I got my nails done, just before it would have been too late to salvage them.  I even picked up dinner for the family, having had a huge debate with myself over whether I should personally indulge in a Big Mac or a Whopper Jr. with onion rings.  I have this debate at least twice a week, and I never give in.  I didn't give in this time either, instead picking up a family meal at Long John Silver's.  All deep fried, I admit, but deep fried to order.   Then I came home to a house temporarily devoid of humans, and cleaned up after the dogs and cat.  Took me a while and that's all I am going to say about that, or my hair may catch on fire.

None of that changes the fact that I am still going to have to deal with the fallout from my latest procrastination, which is probably going to involve falling on my sword and bleeding profusely into the carpet.  Sometimes I can pull the project off despite procrastinating past the point of no return, but this is not likely to be one of them.  Sort of like when I opened my calculus book for the very first time the night before the final exam.  That was procrastination at its highest level.  If there had been a contest for Queen of the Procrastinators, I would have left the competition far behind.  Before that crown sat too comfortably on my head, however, I failed the course, the only time I ever failed anything in school, from kindergarten through law school.  Therein lies the cautionery tale, my friends.

Wish me luck.

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