procrastination

I like to think I’ve made procrastination an art form. When I should be doing one thing, I’m doing another. But usually that other thing is something I’ve been putting off as well. Take last week. I should have been working to finish some long-term lingerers on my to-do list before being thrown into the madness of a new quarter at work. I knew how busy I would be in the coming weeks. Instead, I finally finished the embroidery project I found buried away during COVID that had just a few back-stitches and French knots left. This had been hanging over my head, too, and for a longer time than a lot of other things on the list; but this probably hadn’t been the right time to finish it. Even so, I felt immense satisfaction in tying the last French knot. One thing done, but not the thing I was supposed to do.

There is a part of my mind that feels like an ever-growing list. Items are stacked haphazardly, without sense for big or small. Taking out the recycling sits next to ordering furniture and laundry is up against the fridge clean-out. Sometimes parts of this list end up on paper, and my mind feels a little clearer, if only for a moment. But then I pick something to do, and if it’s not the most urgent thing on the list, I second-guess my choice even as I complete the task.

I meant to write during the 4th of July long weekend. But I kept finding reasons to put it off. I had plenty of time, and I hadn’t packed the weekend full of social obligations on purpose. But then I spent Friday out, unexpectedly. Saturday was spent recovering from Friday, planning a vacation, and watching a lot of unnecessary TV while re-hydrating. I did open my laptop to write, but only got one paragraph in before getting distracted again. Sunday was a social day, during which I saw friends and went out for food. Since two glasses of red wine can now put me out like a light, I came home that night and promptly fell asleep, only waking at 2am to turn the bedside lamp off.

Monday would have to be my big day of productivity now; I didn’t have a choice. I was going to go to the farmer’s market. I was going to cook something delicious. I was maybe going to do the returns I needed to do if I tried on the pair of jeans that I didn’t think fit. I was thinking of stopping by the art supplies store for another project I had been considering. It would be good to make lunch for the week since I knew I would be busy. Instead, I woke up with the deep desire to go…nowhere.

I underestimate the burden of that mental list.  I checked a lot of things off on Monday, even though none of them were what I had planned to do. I finally got out of bed and started the day by using the sweet potato that had been sitting on my counter for weeks. I had so many plans for what do to with it, but because of my procrastination, and my desire to eat soon, and the need to see it disappear from the counter, I diced it up, seasoned it with paprika and chili powder and ground cumin, and roasted it in the oven for 30 minutes. In the meantime, I cooked some brown rice that seemed like perhaps it was too old, but I couldn’t really tell. I pulled out the black beans I’ve slowly been working my way through from the fridge. I sliced up half a jalapeno, a fourth of an avocado, and a handful of cilantro. Everything went into a bowl with a squeeze of lime on top. I could check the sweet potato off the list.

After breakfast (really, lunch), I put a load of laundry in. I picked up around the kitchen and finally took out the recycling. I trimmed the edges of my finished cross-stitch and looked up how to frame it online. I thought about all the things I needed to do before my family would come to visit in three weeks. I hate to have people over and feel like any common part of the apartment is a mess, even if there’s a mess hiding in my room. I opened the package with the salt cellar I had ordered and let it fulfill its destiny.  I put in a second load of laundry. I did more research for my vacation. I messaged the doctor about my incredibly itchy scalp, which only seemed to make it itch more. I flipped through one of the cookbooks I had gotten from the library, trying to find some inspiration, some motivation, to make dinner.

At every moment, it occurred to me that I should be writing, but this didn’t seem to make me sit down to do just that. I thought about writing a letter to my cousin in India, if that might get my creative spark running again, but I couldn’t find a card the right size (or at least, that was my excuse). That evening, I cleaned out shoeboxes in my closet full of sentimental items and reorganized the clothes on the shelves, which had fallen into disarray. It was something I had been meaning to do, but it also meant I now needed to figure out where to donate the clothes I had weeded out and the ancient cellphone I had found stashed in one of the boxes.

All these books and blogs and tips about productivity - I wonder if anyone can actually make those work for them. How does one reach the point where they are not pulled in five different directions? Or is that most of these people have other people fixating on cleaning, or what’s for lunch, or making them work out? Were they just better at not creating the clutter that contributes to all of this?

One thing I did get done was finally ordering a shelf to mount on the wall next to my desk this weekend. I had been waiting and waiting for one that I like to go on sale at West Elm, but it never did, even with the holiday weekend. I found a cheaper, well-reviewed one at Wayfair and bit the bullet. Ever since I wanted to get a shelf, I have been thinking about all the clutter it would remove from my desk - not a small thing since I work from there regularly now. I thought it really would improve my working situation and my mood, since I’m always rearranging everything on it to make space. I am fantasizing about when that shelf comes, in part because of fulfilling the dream of less clutter and in part because I like building things. But I hope I’ll actually feel the satisfaction and fulfillment when it arrives. I’m worried I’ll just be fixated on the next thing that needs to get cleaned up.

——

I wrote the first part of this post in the first weeks of July. It’s now the beginning of August. I did manage to get more done. My shelf arrived, and I spent an evening putting it together and hanging it the next day. My desk is clean(er), and shifting notebooks and other miscellany onto the shelves made me throw out a few things, too. While putting away some stationery, I came across the perfect card to send to my cousin. I made the time to write it right there and then, so I couldn’t make more excuses. I put some of the items from my closet clean-out up on my local Buy Nothing group and was able to give them away. I took the finished embroidery to a frame shop so I would be able to hang it up (you can see the final product at the top of this post).

Never fear, though - I have plenty of new things on my list to procrastinate over (and some old ones, too). I know they’ll all get done, one by one, even if it’s not in quite the right order and just a bit later than planned (like this post).