Procrastinatin…

Happy New Year, Everyone!  

Oh. Right. It’s February 1st. Might be a bit too late to still be saying Happy New Year. It’s probably because I fully intended on publishing this post at the beginning of the month. Like, the actually 1st of the year. But I just didn’t get around to it. And that brings me to my New Years Resolution: No more procrastinating!

Sure, it took me 31 days to come up with that resolution, but what better time than now! That’s a thing that people who don’t procrastinate say, right? Truth be told, I don’t think I have ever made a New Years resolution and if I did, I definitely didn’t stick to it. But as I get older and time just continues to slip through my aging fingers like sand, I’m finding it more important than ever to be prompt and organized. 

Also, my family is moving all the way across the country in 2 months and as it turns out, that takes a lot of planning and organization! (No, I’m not emotionally ready to talk about that yet).

So, this is the year that I stop putting stuff off! Seriously, this is it. Just gotta get a few things done first, like read more clickbait articles and refresh the old “gram (Instagram to the lay folk), but then, I’m really gonna do it. 

First, can I just tell you something? This has been a LIFE-LONG struggle for me. I was the worst student ever… in grade school. I remember doing the last few math problems on the morning bus ride in 3rd grade. I always had a problem with finishing homework. I would get to the last few problems and think “meh, good enough for now” and just go back to my fun childhood. Then, I’d let it linger over my head as I woke up and got ready for school, convincing myself that I still had time to finish. Breakfast would come and go and my only chance to not get an Incomplete was in between bus stops on the way to school. This is one of the many reasons I turned out to be very bad at math.

Fast forward to 5th grade: the year of the Mayan Report. This semester-long project loomed over our heads since we entered the 2nd grade. Older classmen were always bragging about the amount of work they were doing to make themselves sound more important. 

“I can’t play today because I have this rough draft of my Mayan Report to turn in. You’ll understand next year”, my sister would say. 

Basically, a third of our day, almost every day, was set aside to teach us about the Mayan Indians (are we calling them Indians anymore? Please don’t social media shame me). The teacher even gave out an overview of all of the assignments due during that time and urged us to give them to our parents for oversight. Psshh. Please, woman. What my mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her. I’d already been forging her signature on my assignment notebooks for years. So the schedule of events never went on the fridge and my parents never knew how much work I wasn’t doing. 

It consumed our lives. When we weren’t watching videos from The Voyage of the Mimi, we were going to the library to do research, writing out notecards, writing drafts, revising drafts, peer reviewing drafts, and ultimately, creating the FINAL REPORT. This was probably all of 3 pages long double spaced, but it was the biggest assignment we had ever completed at the time. And I just didn’t do it.

On the bus ride home, everyone was talking about how they were just going to go home and work on the Mayan report. Me? I was gearing up for a full night of all new episodes on the TGIF line-up. Saturday, I had a full schedule of playing Sonic the Hedgehog and catching up on my RL Stine novel. Sunday was going to be when I really put my focus and effort onto it. But, Sunday came and went, as they always do and suddenly, it was Sunday night, and even though I was panic stricken and sick to my stomach with embarrassment that it wasn’t done, I still didn’t do it. I COULDN’T do it. I had waited too long and missed the window of opportunity where the nerves of not getting it done turn into adrenaline to get it done. Instead, I just went to bed and dreamed about running away and never coming back.

Showing up to school without a final report for the biggest assignment of the year was probably the most embarrassing moment of my life. And that’s saying something because if you know me or had the opportunity to hear my bridesmaids toast at my wedding, you would know that my life is pretty much one BIG embarrassing moment after another. But nothing made me feel smaller than that moment where I had to say out loud, to the teacher and in front of everyone, that I didn’t have my report. I was caught, in front of everyone, as the giant procrastinator that I was, and there was no one there to save or excuse me. 

I’d love to tell you that I never behaved like that again, but most of the years that followed had similar stories of putting things off too long. I forgot to fill out a form for the Pell grant for college, so I never received that. I got bad grades on quizzes for forgetting to study. I waited too long to get a book at the bookstore and they were sold out. I waited until the day after my 25th birthday to renew my driver’s license and they made me take the road test again. There are many examples of how I made my life worse because I couldn’t quite make myself do things on time. 

Why live like this? Because it’s the constant thrill of the chase. It is why people watch action movies with scenes that have a bomb ticking with a clock showing you exactly how much time is left. It wouldn’t be entertaining MacGyver dismantled the bomb with 8 seconds left. He HAS to finish at the 1-second mark or who even cares? Bottom line, there is something sickening and satisfying about actually getting something thrown together at the last minute. 

So, here we are present day, and there are a million things on my to-do list. There are things that need to be done so we can focus on getting another thing done. Real estate agents need forms and documents and social security numbers. Recruiters need resumes and references. Nanny’s and daycares need to be called. A life has to be planned in a whole new city. I have to FORCE myself to do all of these things because it’s not just me anymore. My family needs a home. My kids need someone to care for them during the day. My husband needs me to get a job. And all of a sudden, I have become this hyper-organized person, checking off boxes, creating “if/then” scenarios, balancing budgets, and generally getting shit done. I’ve come a long way.

There is this one thing, though. My husband has been asking for my W2 for weeks. I have it in my purse but I keep forgetting to give it to him. He texts me and asks me to scan and email it to him. I have it right on my desk. It’s been there all day.

But first… a blog.