I've never been a procrastinator. Most of my jobs have been production oriented, heavy with deadlines and I have been efficient. I have gotten the job done on time or before.
But there is something about writing that feels just like meditating. I know I love it. I know it feels good once I get going. But my mind is uncanny in its ability to procrastinate.
Here's how this morning went. I suspect this is a very female type of procrastination.
OK, I’m going to go sit down and write, right now.
Wait - there’s the end of that rotisserie chicken. It has a little meat on it. I should really pick that off, I can use it in the mushroom soup cause the mushrooms need to be used.
OK, here I go - gonna write now.
The cream for the soup. Is it too old? We haven’t been using it. Have to check that or I will forget. Yup—too old. Have to write that on the list if I’m going to make soup.
That’s it - all set.
Oops, didn’t put my earrings on. Let me just put my earrings on-- what is that on the floor? Sand stuck to my bare feet. Get the broom, sweep up the sand.
OK, sitting down.
I’m sitting down—that credit card bill. Is it overdue? I’ll just check that. Almost—better pay it now.
Bill paid, no stamps. Put that on the list.
Now. Really—now. As long as no one interrupts me or needs me--
Whew. Scrivener is open. Now where was I???
Hmm—figuring out what to call the drive for the new mining ships--
Here we go--