Procrastination strata

13 Feb

Welp, I guess it’s about time that I wrote something on here, eh?  I “started” this blog exactly one month ago.  That’s much more of a happy accident than something intentional.  That last sentence could just as easily describe the better part of my life thus far.  Of course, some of it is composed of not so happy accidents.  In fact, a lot of it; not so happy.  I want to change that.

But I digress.

Let’s start from the beginning.  I came into the world  a behemoth 10.6 lb.. and 22-point-something-i-forget inches.  My poor mother carried me to term AND THEN some.  At 10 months in the womb, the doctors were soon going to induce labor if I didn’t come out on my own accord.  Sooo, I finally came into the world screaming like hell- all red faced, with a preternaturally full head of hair.  Basically, I STARTED life as a procrastinator.

Don’t worry though, this isn’t going to be one of those self important biographies.  I don’t assume that when I learned to walk, talk, read, and poop in a porcelain receptacle is on par with the life backgrounds of Beethoven, W.E.B. Du Bois, Gloria Steinem, or even the ever-profound Paris (*snicker*) Hilton.  So, let’s get to the good stuff (presumably, there is some).

I actually meant to start from a month ago, the beginnings of this blog… but, you know… I got distracted by the opportunity to develop a throw away joke.  Maybe it was an insider joke, with only me on the inside?  Cue rim shot.  “Thanks drummer, it’s a little late for that.”

Okay, so this is my fair warning to you that my writing may at times be meandering, hacky, and unfocused.  And that I am a splitter of infinitives.  Modern day linguists say that it’s permissible.  So, deal.

Yeah, anyhow, a month back I was seeking respite from my homework.  I felt anxious, lost, unmotivated, and uninspired.  As if these feelings weren’t unpleasant enough on their own, I also felt extremely guilty and annoyed with myself for feeling those very things.  I wanted to slap myself, snap out of it, find some get-up-and-go, and, well, get going.  Get shit done.

So, I did something a little counterintuitive.  I started this blog.  It seems like yet another procrastination tool, and maybe it was initially.  The fact that I put off even writing some type of introductory post doesn’t look so good.  But, here’s the thing; in order for a tool to be effective, one must use it.  And even now, as I’m typing away, I feel something unfolding within.  Or unraveling.  Or resetting.  Or regrouping.  It feels good go get some of my thoughts out of my head and into print.  Cathartic.

What I’m seeking to do is essentially this: acknowledge my fears and anxieties, pinpoint the source of my ennui, flesh out what I truly want, find motivation from that, put in the work to get what I want, and, finally, become a fulfilled, self actualized adult.  I’m not so naive as to believe that this process will be a linear nor an easy one.  I just want to start taking strides in the “right” direction, albeit in a strained and curly-cued path.

Care to join me?


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