I never start….
You may find yourself forgetting to do something important, like sending off the warranty registration cards for your kitchen full of lovely brand new appliances.
Not such a big deal you think, until you realise you’ve forfeited your 2 year parts and labour guarantee, and then your washing machine goes on the fritz and all your user manual has to say about fixing the problem is
“Try turning it off and on again”
And thus, feeling like an extra in The IT Crowd, you do so and nothing changes.
Yes, this is the position I found myself in the other night when the dryer part of my washer/dryer wouldn’t work. Instead it chose to flash lights at me rapidly, like a naked old man who thinks that you enjoy nothing better than being repeatedly shown his shrivelled and aged ‘tackle’.
I dutifully switched it off and on again several times to no avail. Fortunately when I tried again at three in the morning it worked fine.
So fingers crossed it was just something simple like the fact the machine was too hot, and not a big fault I need to fix.
in order to Construct Conversations, because that’s what I’ve been doing for the last two days, attending a course on constructive conversations.
Yes, I actually went on a course. Me, the last sort of person you want to be on a course with youm because I don’t see the point of courses. This time though, I decided to leave my sceptical, what’s the point? can’t be bothered with this shit part of me at home for a couple of days.
I had an enjoyable couple of days, and actually learnt quite a lot. Instead of spending two days role playing difficult conversations as I expected, we spent two days pulling apart our personalities, understanding what made each of us tick, how it can reflect in the things we say and do, and how people who are different may react either well or badly to our own personal styles.
I certainly have plenty of new skills to practice now, and I’m hoping I can keep up the positive attitude I came away from the course with long enough to ingrain these skills in my psyche.
I’ve procrastinated like a trooper so far this month. It has been quite epic compared to my usual level of procrastination…..
I’ve managed to get myself through three seasons of Cracker and it’s associated special episodes. I’m now onto the second series of Reaper, and also have Daybreak as my Tellyvisual methods of avoidance. On top of that I’ve got four books due back at the library on Monday that I haven’t even looked at yet.
I’ve had the parentals down for a visit, and they have done all my DIY while I watched and provided them with tea. I now have shorter curtains, a curtain pole that doesn’t wobble, and the blind I pulled completely off the wall the morning they were due to arrive, is now safely, and more securely than before back in place.
I’ve had countless arguments with the boyfriend and wallowed in obscene amounts of both self- pity, and self loathing all washed down with too much wine.
Now I have the best excuse for procrastination of all… I’m back at work.
Today was planned as somewhat relaxing and quiet as I was due to be working tonight.
At just after nine this morning though that all changed when I work called and asked me to go in four hours earlier for my night shift tonight. This meant that I would not be seeing the Boyf today as I would have to be leaving before he got home from work. It also meant I didn’t have as much spare time as I wanted to try to sleep before going in to work, which meant less time to do anything full stop.
So instead, what I did was fit in a quick trip to the post office, a row with the Boyfriend over the fact he’s currently working six days a week and a can’t have a day off, not to mention being in a pissy because he can’t even fit in a quick lunchtime visit.
I followed that up with a lunchtime sandwich before heading off to bed. Friday night traffic means leaving almost two hours early to get to work because the journey is going to be hell, and of course being at work means actually pretending like I do some of the stuff, and leaving me no time for anything else.
I have procrastinated better than I expected today, as the change in plans left much less time for which I needed to find alternative activities.
Because let’s face it, this blog is called ‘Just a minute, I’m Busy’ and you know how the saying goes….
If you want something done, ask a busy person
So here’s challenge number three for November, and luckily enough for me, yesterday I took some pictures of the cat so I’ve retrospectively got that one covered!
That’s my newly inspired ‘National Procrastination Month’ in case you were wondering, and today’s methods of procrastination include….
Watching the entire first series of Cracker. That’s the proper Brit series from 1993, by the way, not ‘Fitz’ the ubiquitous American re-make.
Then undertaking to ‘wipe’ the Boyfs phone, which after half a dozen failed attempts to manually wipe and reset its data, took 2+ hours, an iTunes update, an iOS update and being forced into recovery mode to finally get this very poorly and broken iPhone 4 to accept a factory reset.
Followed shortly after by half an hour running backwards and forwards turning taps on and off for the man from the water company, while he worked out for himself which of the six meters for my apartment block belongs to me, because despite me being right in what I’ve told them, they believe I’ve supplied them with the wrong meter number for my place…..
because sometimes you just have to.
There’s a reason for my love of procrastination, and to be blunt about it, it’s a complete lack of faith in my own abilities.
As much as I would love to be a writer, I don’t believe I have the ability to do it. I don’t believe I have an imagination to come up with great stories. I’m almost of the opinion why am I bothering? before I even start. Every other year I sign myself up for NaNoWriMo, and every other year I sit for a few days staring at a blank screen, before beginning to find and increasing number of other things to do instead of sitting there, and finally giving up for another year.
Then because I’ve given up I feel like everyone I know is laughing at my attempts to call myself anything because I can’t do it, and that every time I say something about writing people just sneer to themselves that I’m all talk.
I set myself up for failure every year before I start. I believe I am a failure, and unable to do this. In fact I often wonder if I shouldn’t just give it all up and resign myself to just being a reader, but then the annoying little voice inside my head tells me I’ll never be happy if that’s what I do.
It remains to be seen if I manage to do anything this month, but as always I’ll give it a try, and if I can at least beat my all time best of 10,000 words then maybe there’s a glimmer of hope for me after all.