Oh, I am the worlds biggest procrastinator. I really am. The trouble is, I get a lot done. You see, I’m a fast worker. I dread, and drag my feet. I hum and haw. I blog spy, I waste time. Then, I hurry – hurry – hurry. Get done what I need to. Then it’s back to doing what I want. Like this:
Let’s see. Twenty minutes ‘til the Stake Relief Society Presidency and my presidency will be here. The counters are a mess, dishes need to be done and there is icecream caked all over the table. Hmm. That’s an 8 minute job. That gives me just about 12 minutes to check my hotmail, eat a cookie (Shame, shame – I know your name!), and put my hair in a pony. Is that all? I’ve got time to waste! Whew!
…Then…Ding-dong. "Hello. Come on in.” “What a cute house. It’s beautiful," they say. Oh, if they only knew. Good thing bedrooms have doors, someone invented Lysol wipes, and a Dyson really sucks. (well, usually. Right now mine actually really does suck, that jerk! The vacuum cleaner, that is.)
Wouldn’t life be easier if I just did things at a normal pace? But then again, I’m not normal. That’s for sure.
1 comment:
You're on the same time schedule as me. I swear my heinie is glued to this computer chair most days. Seriously, I need to figure out a way to blog and blog surf while I do dishes. Sheesh.
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