Expert procrastinator.
I am an expert procrastinator and time-delayer and, sometimes, delegator.
If there is a particularly boring project at work with a due date, instead of doing like my go-get-'em sister and just knocking it out so I'm done with it and don't have to worry about it, I find other things to distract me. Working for a few minutes on a blog post, perhaps? (Ahem.) Dealing with some "important" emails (filled with youtube videos of cats)? Dusting my office? Checking in with a coworker to see how her weekend was? Sure! I have plenty of time to get to that project later, but this is more pressing!
Until, eventually, I don't have plenty of time. I have just barely enough time. Then I rush like a mad woman to get it done and ask myself, "Why didn't I do this earlier?"
The answer: I'm an expert procrastinator.
I find what HoneyBooBoo said to be true. "Beauty is sooo boring." There is little that is more boring and annoying than showering. Patrick doesn't get it. Wash your face, wash your body. Shampoo and condition. But that conditioner doesn't just rinse way; you have to scrub it back out of your hair. That takes time. And while I'm doing that, I've got massive amounts of hair falling out of my head and getting tangled on my fingers to deal with. Yuck. (I can hardly believe I'm not bald, the amount of hair I lose.) Oh, and shaving my legs? Good heavens, do I have to? (Yes? Oh, okay.) But it doesn't end there. You have to get out, put on various face lotions and creams (I'm a skincare product lover, despite how boring beauty is), and dry and style that hair. Do you know how long that takes? Do I go curly or straight? Do I have time? Maybe I'll just whip it into a bun for the day. Yeah, that takes the least amount of work. But this stupid piece of hair won't tuck in and I can't find a bobby pin! Fine, I guess I'd better straighten it.
OMG, and I still have to put on makeup? Shoot me. Okay, so while my primer is drying, I'll just wander out to the living room to see what Patrick is up to.
"Hey baby."
"Yeah?"
"Nothing. Just seeing whachur doin'."
Gesturing to the TV he's obviously watching, with an expression that tells me he knows that I know what he's doing, "Just watching the news. What are you doing?"
"Getting ready for work."
"You're going to be late if you don't hurry."
"I know. Alright, guess I'd better get back to it. Loooove ya."
"Love you, too."
"Aw, look at Lizzie. Look what she's doing!"
With a stern look, "Babe."
"Fine, I'm going."
Repeat as needed every 5 minutes. Why? Because I'm an expert time-delayer. (And Patrick is a patient, loving fella.)
Why I'm such a procrastinator, I don't know. It may just be my DNA. I was born lazy. I don't like doing things. In third grade one day, I noticed my shoe was untied but didn't feel like tying it. I asked my friend to tie it for me.
"You know how to tie your own shoe!"
"No, I don't. I never figured out how."
I was such an awful, lazy child that I lied to my friend for the better part of the school year. Anytime my shoe was untied, she'd tie it for me. One day I slipped up, near the end of the year, and tied my own shoe, and she saw me. "You can tie your shoes!" (You ain't got nothing on my third grade drama.) She wasn't exactly thrilled with me. (We stayed friends anyway and still email regularly to this day.)
See, I happen to be a pretty good delegator, when it suits me. I shalt not tie mine own shoe. But thou art nice and assume I am also, so ye shall.
I told my dad that story years later, and I think he was rather impressed with my child-like cunning. He's also rather lazy and a bit of a procrastinator, and can delegate like his life depends on it. And my mom can't be on time for anything, so she is my model example of being a time-delayer.
See? It's always the parents' fault! I guess it's them I should blame (and thank) for being how I am today.
I'll try to remember to get around to doing that sometime soon. Eventually. But first I need to watch the Harry Potter rerun on TV. Oh, and file my nails. Those dishes need washed, but maybe I'll get Patrick to do that.
If there is a particularly boring project at work with a due date, instead of doing like my go-get-'em sister and just knocking it out so I'm done with it and don't have to worry about it, I find other things to distract me. Working for a few minutes on a blog post, perhaps? (Ahem.) Dealing with some "important" emails (filled with youtube videos of cats)? Dusting my office? Checking in with a coworker to see how her weekend was? Sure! I have plenty of time to get to that project later, but this is more pressing!
Until, eventually, I don't have plenty of time. I have just barely enough time. Then I rush like a mad woman to get it done and ask myself, "Why didn't I do this earlier?"
The answer: I'm an expert procrastinator.
I find what HoneyBooBoo said to be true. "Beauty is sooo boring." There is little that is more boring and annoying than showering. Patrick doesn't get it. Wash your face, wash your body. Shampoo and condition. But that conditioner doesn't just rinse way; you have to scrub it back out of your hair. That takes time. And while I'm doing that, I've got massive amounts of hair falling out of my head and getting tangled on my fingers to deal with. Yuck. (I can hardly believe I'm not bald, the amount of hair I lose.) Oh, and shaving my legs? Good heavens, do I have to? (Yes? Oh, okay.) But it doesn't end there. You have to get out, put on various face lotions and creams (I'm a skincare product lover, despite how boring beauty is), and dry and style that hair. Do you know how long that takes? Do I go curly or straight? Do I have time? Maybe I'll just whip it into a bun for the day. Yeah, that takes the least amount of work. But this stupid piece of hair won't tuck in and I can't find a bobby pin! Fine, I guess I'd better straighten it.
OMG, and I still have to put on makeup? Shoot me. Okay, so while my primer is drying, I'll just wander out to the living room to see what Patrick is up to.
"Hey baby."
"Yeah?"
"Nothing. Just seeing whachur doin'."
Gesturing to the TV he's obviously watching, with an expression that tells me he knows that I know what he's doing, "Just watching the news. What are you doing?"
"Getting ready for work."
"You're going to be late if you don't hurry."
"I know. Alright, guess I'd better get back to it. Loooove ya."
"Love you, too."
"Aw, look at Lizzie. Look what she's doing!"
With a stern look, "Babe."
"Fine, I'm going."
Repeat as needed every 5 minutes. Why? Because I'm an expert time-delayer. (And Patrick is a patient, loving fella.)
Why I'm such a procrastinator, I don't know. It may just be my DNA. I was born lazy. I don't like doing things. In third grade one day, I noticed my shoe was untied but didn't feel like tying it. I asked my friend to tie it for me.
"You know how to tie your own shoe!"
"No, I don't. I never figured out how."
I was such an awful, lazy child that I lied to my friend for the better part of the school year. Anytime my shoe was untied, she'd tie it for me. One day I slipped up, near the end of the year, and tied my own shoe, and she saw me. "You can tie your shoes!" (You ain't got nothing on my third grade drama.) She wasn't exactly thrilled with me. (We stayed friends anyway and still email regularly to this day.)
See, I happen to be a pretty good delegator, when it suits me. I shalt not tie mine own shoe. But thou art nice and assume I am also, so ye shall.
I told my dad that story years later, and I think he was rather impressed with my child-like cunning. He's also rather lazy and a bit of a procrastinator, and can delegate like his life depends on it. And my mom can't be on time for anything, so she is my model example of being a time-delayer.
See? It's always the parents' fault! I guess it's them I should blame (and thank) for being how I am today.
I'll try to remember to get around to doing that sometime soon. Eventually. But first I need to watch the Harry Potter rerun on TV. Oh, and file my nails. Those dishes need washed, but maybe I'll get Patrick to do that.
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