Practiced at the Art of Procrastination

The road to hell isn’t paved with good intentions; it’s paved with the bodies of procrastinators. Those who don’t procrastinate are driving the steamrollers.

My to-do list has become quite extensive this past week. The holidays tend to do this to women. The house needs a holiday cleaning, cookie recipes need baked, and I don’t even want to figure out what box I packed the Christmas decorations in last year. We were flooded twice in the past few years so much of what I once had is now floating somewhere in the Atlantic. If you notice a fake Christmas tree, it’s probably mine.

So with the never ending list of my own, we add to that -- Halloween parties at work and school (plus the opportunity to TP the local haunted tree up the street from my house -- not to worry, it’s a yearly event graciously accepted by the owners of said tree), Thanksgiving, a music recital (thrown in for good measure), Christmas parties at work and school, New Years Eve parties (amateur night, I tend to stay in for those), and then the Monster’s Birthday. Three months crammed full of stuff to do. I’m starting to feel my age and the ever-present devil sitting on my shoulder whispering into my ear, “Procrastinate.”

To be honest, I don’t know how some women do it because I sure as hell can’t keep up with the PTA, wannabe Martha Stewart, school moms. I’m quite happy just being able to get out of bed in the morning, have enough energy to shower and head off to work. (Mind you, my work starts when most of you all go to bed. I sleep during the day, which is a whole other set of problems that lends itself to procrastination.)

Of course, the older I get, the faster time essentially flies by, so that being said -- those same three months will fill all of about 50 minutes in age related time. “And what does that mean?” you ask. Well that means, I will run around like a chicken with its head cut off for several weeks during which the prospective D’days will arrive and I will possibly be able to enjoy a combined total of 50 minutes of the festivities. So instead of being a crazed lunatic this year I decided to prioritize those things that needed to be done thinking I would have more time to enjoy the holidays.

“How’s it going?” you ask. Well, I’m getting to it…