My greatest anxiety is summed up in one word. I neither have
to say the word nor think of the word, but it exists in everything I
never do; tomorrow.
With a leap out of bed, eyelids
peeling open as the morning light stings my sleepy eyes, I crawl across
the landing to the bathroom; my mind wanders excitedly. “
Oh! I know,
the bedroom, I can do the bedroom. I can turn the bedroom into the studio
I have been designing for the past 2 years.”
As I sit in the loo, I can’t
be arsed to stand this early in the morning, thoughts are fermenting and
reminding me of other tasks I never do.
“The gate, I
need to do the gate. I have the wood, the screws, the tools; I’ll do the
gate and I can then do the bedroom...”
I saunter back to the bedroom
to toss my clothes on that I wore yesterday; they still have life in
them. I reach the foot of the stairs and see the three lengths of
skirting board I purchased 6 months ago.
“Shit, that
really needs doing, and the room would look really class when it is finished;
i'll do the skirting boards after I have had a cup of coffee, well, after
the neighbours have woken up.”
Leather recliner extended. Feet
up. Coffee made. I look out the living room window, as I do every
Saturday morning.
“That
furniture I threw out 4 months really needs to go to the tip, its just a
rotting soggy eye soar, i'm sure it will fit in the rear of the car; so much
room will be available once its gone.”
It's really quiet in the living room, the wife is still
sleeping. However, my allergy ridden Springer is driving me insane with
her whining and deep nasal breathing as her gnawing exacerbates her histamine
production which in turn intensifies her gnawing. I hear myself actually shouting
at her even though it's not her fault.
"Jennifer? I could go visit Jennifer for a coffee if
she's up.”
Messenger says she is so I make my way down the road to see
her. I endure my ritual mauling from her dog while my ear drums buckle
with the high pitch barking as she leaps up and down my body. Coffee
made, kids greeted and silence restored.
Our usual conversation always includes everything that we haven't
done and how we are going to work really hard to undo the procrastination that
is forever holding us back. This includes everything I intend to do
today; bedroom, gate, skirting and remove furniture. She confirms her
itinerary of things not done but needs doing, and we demolish a second mug of
prime home made caffeine.
“Oh my god the smell is so inviting. Another?”
Time to go home and do...
I return home and insist that a cup of coffee must be the prequal
to any task attempts today. I look at
the sky for any clues of good or bad weather that could potentially hamper my
ability to carry out my tasks, today.
“Fancy coming shopping with me?” suddenly falls out of Lisa’s mouth.
It’s like a permission to not task. This
question echoes in my ears like a caveat,
telling me to beware. I can go shopping
if I want, however, this may have an impact on my available time to do tasks. I can't blame Lisa for not doing tasks because
I had a choice. I agree to shop, but, I
need a coffee before I leave the house.
Shopping done and we are home. Five or six bags of shopping will
need putting away before things melt, or the dog tries to eat what she can
steal. I offer to help pack this away
absorbing more task time, knowing this does not motivate me to move faster. Packing done, bags folded and stored for next
time. All that shopping and packing
deserves a coffee and maybe a little snack, cheese on toast or a lovely crumpet
packed with dripping melted Irish butter; heavenly.
Leather recliner extended. Feet up. Coffee made. Crumpets
melting. It's now 13:30 pm and Lisa makes
the biggest mistake in the life of a procrastinator trying desperately to
control his impulses to dodge his tasks until tomorrow; She turns the TV on and
glides through the channel list until something interesting catches our eyes.
My indulgence in this is inevitable and, in a sense, pandering to
my inner need to deter my tasks until tomorrow.
As we both want and need these tasks completing, Lisa’s act of putting
the TV on is giving permission to avert all responsibilities for the remainder
of the day.
With my feet up I know that I have failed yet again, until
tomorrow. I wish I could have more
control over that heavy blanket that continually covers and hides away the
things I need to do. I have some days
when I feel like a precrastinator. I
wake and start my tasks with vigor and none stop, with the intention to
complete every task to the end. However,
this event is very very far and few between.
I am a procrastinator and always will be. There is no escaping this nor is there a means
to turn this off. I may find little
nuggets of help on the internet, a todo list, a rota, a reminder etc. These nuggets are all fine providing I am
able to complete the task of filling them in and planning ahead. Rid me of the TV, the phone, the tablet or
the laptop and I may be one step closer to becoming taskless within a day.
Where’s that coffee?
