Tag Archives: Reflection

The Inconclusive Dissection: Mind Half-Full or Half-Empty?

If we go on the premise that procrastinators think too much, then perhaps it’s reasonable to assume that my mind is really full. Well, better than empty, I guess? I guess! And, yes, I guess it could be a possible explanation as to why nothing tangible and concrete is coming out of my head. That’s because everything is so crammed inside, I guess!

Yes, my ideas are packed to the point of having no room to breathe or move, so they just stay within my mind and discuss among themselves. That is where all my stories are, I promise! And when they spend so long there, telling and retelling many variations over, they are already exhausted and left wanting in energy to escape. Furthermore, it feels as though the story has been told, we know the twists and turns, and feel as though the world should look inside to find out what we’ve done, instead of us always having to come out and show what we do. Understand? Understand!

I understand that I am probably deluding myself, but these thoughts are still true. If I think hard enough, I can save myself the step of publication. Save paper? But how do I convince people to take the plunge, to take that leap of faith, and just look inside my mind? To trust me? Trust me!

These were my thoughts during a dinner date in a restaurant with candles. Sitting across from me was an articulate, more good-looking that I deserve, attractive doctor, with experience. I sensed that that my luck may be changing and that it won’t be long before my mind starts opening up.

After a few sips of wine, and samplings of appetizer, I started getting a tingly sensation emanating from the inner portion of both stockingless legs underneath the table. I guess I just had a feeling when choosing what not to wear for the night. Just as he was proposing a toast to ‘I don’t know what’, I clanged his glass while debating within myself whether or not my partner is a surgeon or not. Admittedly, my relationship with him has not gotten deep enough yet for me to acquire this knowledge.

But, oh my, what if he were a surgeon? A surgeon! My imagination went wild in considering the possibilities. And I downed my glass of wine with sumptuous enthusiasm and determination. Would he have the tools and the requisite skills to dissect me? I couldn’t giggle outwardly at such a delicious thought so, instead, I crossed my legs so my skirt wouldn’t be as much of an intrusive censor, and I flexed and extended my ankle continuously, as if to communicate that my heart was jumping up and down with joy? Unequivocal joy!

If there was any way that he could do a professional dissection of me, but preferably with a particular emphasis on the artistic, then finally, at long last, he could really, literally, open up my mind and the world can see the unadulterated stories I have completed!  They’ll know I haven’t been lying all this time. They’ll trust me that I’ve been hard at work!

I suddenly felt incredibly sexy at that moment, more sexy that I’ve felt in my entire life. I didn’t know how much was left of my legs under the table at that point. With all the gyrations going on, I wouldn’t be surprised if I had exercised away all the skin and left them see-through. Oh, poor doctor, I could see it in his eyes, and his focus on his steak, that he had no clue what was going on under there!

I watched intently how he cut up the steak, savoring enough time to allow the juices to bubble over, so he could observe the satisfaction before making it disappear within his mouth, thereby intensifying the the senses at least twofold. That’s a good sign. Maybe he is a surgeon? A surgeon! The thought of him opening me up with such care and focus, like he did that steak, made me lose a button somewhere in my skirt.

I was so ready, I was so much in the mood for desire and intimacy. So, I quickly apologized to him for having to leave early and cut short our dinner together. I declined his offer for a ride, left him alone to finish the rest of his steak (as a surgeon should definitely not leave an operation half completed), and ran all the way home in such a mad rush that there was barely a trace of clothing on me when I arrived.

I have to work harder now. Think harder, deeper, even more intensely than ever before. Patience, my thoughts, patience, as I will bring more characters into an already tight space. But, patience, because now I know that you will soon all get to see the light of day. We must think together on this and get as much inside as possible before the surgeon arrives? Promise me that when that time comes for me to have an operation, you kids will not be hiding somewhere inside. All this work and to have him open me up to find nothing? Nothing!

-Dawn

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Procrastination’s Weak Rebuttal?

It may be time to toughen up the exterior a bit, so it reflects more ideally the fires burning within. I can’t say that many of the posts here have been very much of the aggressive nature, but is it now time? Rage, rage, rage.

It started with innocent chatting over warm drinks that must include honey, but then it somehow it came around to some heated debate about the merits of a blog with procrastination as its title theme. I was urged to changed the title because it automatically predisposes readers to have a certain expectation when they visit, and usually those impressions are not overly positive. And if the focus is on the writing, on a variety of creative and current event topics, then it all gets consumed under that overhanging shadow of procrastination. Writing that has nothing to do with procrastination would get unfairly interpreted under that rubric.

Furthermore, they say, we would waste too much time trying to pigeon hole or slot writing into some relation with procrastination when the topic had no business even being in the vicinity. In addition, we would have our hands tied and be forced to write about procrastination every odd post even though there is no reason to. (I guess they wouldn’t approve of this current post I’m crapping out right now) And this would take valuable time away from other more important writing. Then they went on a psychological bent: It’s as if even when there are no procrastination issues, we purposely seek them out and create procrastination problems for ourselves!

By this time, I was the only one finished my drink with honey because the others were too occupied expressing their views. If the drink wasn’t warm enough to begin with, I am sure I was easily able to reheat it to the boiling point within my intestines. However, by the time the steam was able to make its way back up my system towards my mouth, it all dissipated into the form of mild voice that asked weakly, ‘So what is wrong with this procrastination rubric?’

Oh, and then the chorus came! All together in tremendous chorus! The chorus came raining down in unison! They said people often don’t go too close to the actual writing because they are turned away by the monstrous label. They fear being bombarded by a big group of postings in high pitched voices lamenting and commiserating about how so and so didn’t do what, and how such and such didn’t get what done, and a whole bunch of it’s okay, it’s okay, you’re okay, I’m okay, it’s all okay, you’re human kind of discourse.

Finally, I stood up. I stood up to them, or maybe just stood up in front of them. And said confidentally, “I have to go to the washroom.” Must have been the drink mixed with honey. Instead, I went home and browsed through all the posts to try to spot themes of ‘I’m okay, you’re okay…’

Maybe I should tone down my aggressiveness?

-pat

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Silence Does Not Mean Assumed ‘Procrastination’

I am sorry. Since starting this “Procrastination Post” blog, in its current form, this has been the longest lag in between writings. I guess with the up front, obvious title of the blog, it already contains a ready made excuse for the gaps. Maybe it sets up the dismal expectation to expect many intervals of stunted growth, regression, stops and starts, and in inordinate number of apologies.

Sorry, I am not going to apologize, and I cannot accept our ‘Procrastination’ title as a motive to provide a convenient reason and acceptance of failure that is inevitable. I cannot. It’s as if we purposely put this label in bold font right out front, carrying placards to set the bar real low in order to minimize the impact from the fall when we trip.

No. I must insist that it is to the contrary of all these assumptions. It is to show, explore, consider what value can come out of digging ourselves out of the hideous hole we started with. And that we refuse to accept our predicament and struggle even more desperately to fight and climb. And that we will write to reflect light on another side of our world underneath. Our label is not something to trip over, step on, nor to foreshadow a message of upcoming weakness and disappointment.

And if I am, in fact, simply incriminating myself in this latest post and providing more evidence to fuel previous assumptions, then at least we can still be the prosecutors of our own guilt.

Thanks for your patience over past couple of weeks, knowing that even while we are silent, we are still writing and digging even more profusely than what can be sighted here.

-pat

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The Effects of ’24’ on Procrastination

“The following takes place between 10 and 11 AM.”

Hi, I’m Dawn, and I went dark recently. Sorry for taking the expression from the popular series “24.” But, it’s relevant because it’s a major reason for my disappearance lately. At least that’s my story, and I’m going to stick with it and carry it out as far as it can go.

By the way, can’t help but notice how quiet it has been here lately. With the blog name being ‘Procrastination Post’, are we spending more time in the ‘procrastination’ phase rather than the ‘post’ phase? I’m as guilty as anyone. While Sheri mentioned in her post about a lightning bolt, I don’t have as good a reason for my invisibility. But I will say that I took some time away in an honest, though perhaps unproductive, effort to deal with my procrastination. How? I watched DVDs!

I know, I know, television watching perhaps does more to aggravate and exacerbate procrastination than anything else, but it wasn’t any old plain kill time thing I was watching. I was watching 24! And I was watching Jack Bauer – perhaps the one person who is as far away as procrastination as you could get. That’s right! I’ve been away these days, busy watching 24 to try to instill a sense of urgency in my life via watching other characters operating under intense circumstances where every minute is life and death.

Can there be anyone tougher than Jack Bauer? Not only does he survive repeated torture, and various extreme methods of interrogation, he has to immediately recover with no down time, put it aside, and focus on the moment for the very next crucial task. There is little time to mourn failure, unsuccessful missions, deaths, because something of higher priority awaits. And in situations where everything seems important, he needs to prioritize and constantly sacrifice things that will cause pain.

I just finished watching a scene where Jack Bauer had to make one of those impossible decisions to choose between killing his friend (a member of his own team) or letting his friend fulfill personal revenge against a terrorist who is needed alive by the US government. Jack Bauer killed his friend. Would a procrastinator be able to choose in such a scenario? Would a procrastinator be able to act in a scenario 1000 times less intense?

Am I just plain silly and stupid to be even referencing a work of fiction, a character who is not real, to spur motivation? Will 24 make me write more, write better, write consistently? Will it help me write more urgently to save or change lives? Or am I exhausted just watching the show, feeling as if by watching I also participated in urgent action and overcame procrastination? Then the empty feeling comes after when realizing all I did was watch, and acted upon nothing. Do most of us sit and contemplate on the backs of a few whose actions determine the course of a country? I don’t think I have done anything for my country except think about it.

Then again, if we tried to live our normal lives like 24, would we die of stress or have other health complications? But maybe it’s worth it to feel so alive, so significant, and immersed in activities of impact? Or can I request to have 1 hour out of every 24 to be that intense? I guess what I’m looking for is some guarantee on time, some extreme risks with a safety net, but once I place a contingency on the moment, then I may as well be procrastinating again.

I’ll have to disappear again, and try to engage in 24 a little bit more effectively. I’ll let you know how it turns out. Actually, if successful, I won’t have to let anyone know…as significant change will be evident in itself without digging for minute details.

-Dawn

 

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My Blog Has Laryngitis

We welcome back Sheri as she makes her third entry in her procrastinator diaries. Below, she talks about her recent disappearance from the blogging world. In my opinion, she’s doing quite good with her procrastination, if we can even call it that. She couldn’t blog due to a lightning bolt (more than a good reason); while most of us here, including me, haven’t been blogging due to procrastination (not a good reason). 

Sheri, thanks again for your humor and enthusiasm, and letting us know how much we should value blogging. On the bright side, your blog had laryngitis, but you didn’t! Glad to hear your voice again!

Please read her post below and see more of her writing at:
http://disorganizedorganizer.wordpress.com/

Egad!  It’s horrible!  I can’t talk…well, at least I can’t blog.  I’ve been diagnosed with blog laryngitis due to a lightning bolt rendering my wireless router thingamagig useless.  I was about to explode when I packed up my laptop and headed for my parent’s house and their wonderful wireless router thingamagig.  I am better now.  My fingers and brain are adapting to being used for blogging again.

Really, not good to not have Internet.  I not only couldn’t blog or read blogs or check my e-mails…I couldn’t even look up a new breed of dog I learned about or what years Franco Harris played or if the price of tea in China was up or down.  I was, well, impotent…yes, computer impotent…and, hey, there’s no little blue pill for that and no groups for those who are computertile dysfunctional.  No, I was on my own.  On my own in a big world without even a basic 812 speed or whatever it is all the computer people in the world talk about.  I had no gigs or hards or floppies or chips or updates…LIFE AS I KNEW IT ENDED!  And it was not good.  I hope to be up and running by tomorrow.  I hope to breathe again.  I hope to live through this crisis and come out on the other side unscathed and possibly a better person for it.  I can do it.  I…can…do…it.

-Sheri

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