Cleaning out the Attic v2.0

While cleaning out the dark recesses of my computer in a futile effort to increase the speed of downloading I came across bits and pieces of various things I had written. Even though most are out of date I just couldn’t part with some without giving them the light of day.

Decompression
At the end of each work week I hurry home to do all the things I need to do (mow the lawn, wash dishes, finish the taxes, etc.) so I will have time to do the things I think I want to do (bicycling, boating, hiking) and end up doing the things I usually do (sleeping in, visiting the local pub, organizing).

And example of what I really do.
I had a doctor’s appointment this morning at 8am. I had to fast because they were taking blood. I called it changing my oil, but the nurse didn’t even laugh. It sort of sucks when the patient is happier than the staff. However, if I don’t get my blood pressure and the “bad” triglycerides down she is going to load me with medications to do it for me. So I begged off for three more months. I promised to exercise, lose weigh, and eat healthy…. and write a novel, be awarded the Nobel Prize, and win the lottery.

After my appointment I stopped by McDonald’s to get coffee ….okay. And I loaded up on a sausage with egg biscuit.

Now that I am back home, according to my new atomic clock that always tells the correct time, it is now afternoon. So I just pop the top on a Cerveza del Pacifica as I cook the bacon for my BLT.

This leads into a previous piece.

Procrastination
How many ways can I procrastinate. Let me count the ways.
I am always late. Give me a minute and I will take two.
An early assignment and I will save it until the very last moment.
A test? I always wait until the night before to cram.
Check the oil. I’d rather let it run dry.
Paint my house. Not until I see dry rot.

How long can a procrastinator procrastinate? As long as possible.
I once read that people that are always late are trying to draw attention to themselves. I don’t believe that at all. I think I’m just trying to avoid being seen. (Update: 20% of the
American population is chronically late)

Now that I’m responsible for others I have been trying very hard to be on time. But I have found that having such a terrible history of being late is still ingrained in me. Even when I am on time, even ahead of time, I still get that late feeling. Maybe I’m addicted to the adrenaline rush I needed all along just to get things done.