How it is that I am generally perceived as a responsible adult.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*Dear Self,
Please to be stopping the procrastination queen act. You are making yourself far more anxious than is reasonable and wasting money to boot.
Love, Me
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*No, it's nothing that's going to get me in genuine deep shit, just... yeah. *sigh* One of the things I despise most about having a wobble is that I
do procrastinate out the wazoo, in part because I cannot maintain an awareness of time.
This post by
scott_lynch describes the general phenomenon better than I have the brain for at the moment, with what he calls 'black dog time'.
What I find so incredibly irritating, though, is that this particular aspect is the one that persists at a constant low level. On some level, I am always avoiding *something*. And yes, I know, that is how procrastination
works, but ever since the first time I climbed out of a major depressive episode, some twelve years ago now, this has remained a vicious little circle of behaviour that I can't seem to get a handle on, no matter how well everything else might be going.
Which is how I find myself having a nice not-quite-anxiety-attack at ten o'clock on a Thursday night because I'm having a new mattress delivered tomorrow and my bedroom is in serious need of a clean-&-tidy, and it's now too late to vacuum. So I am tidying and dusting as best I can tonight, and I shall be up at the crack o'dawn tomorrow so that I can hoover as soon as it's reasonable (that would be 8:00 am here). But none of this should be necessary, because I have actually had all this week off. Jack had surgery last week, so I collected him from hospital on Saturday and have been making sure he doesn't do anything strenuous. So I've had all this time, and I booked the damn delivery at the beginning of the month so I've known exactly what needed to be done and to what deadline and here I am, effectively 'cramming'. Bah.
Hate.