Citizen of the Procrasti-Nation

Time is my friend. Time is my mortal enemy. Time... is marching on. I can spend hours on something frustrating or an eternity on something that touches my Interest Buttons(tm), but I still have to do things like eat, sleep, and maintain my stupid meat suit.

Given the parts of me that are breaking down or malfunctioning, I would like very much to ascend into becoming a virtual entity. But the technology is very much not there yet. And I doubt it ever would be.

Either way, I am in a constant battle with my anxiety and my desire to just have fun. Which is probably why it has taken me all week to write one chapter in my professional-grade work in progress, but minutes to write a chunk of fun fiction for an internet friend. Besides, they're paying me in doodles and that's more rewarding than figuring out the next bit in this thing that I did to myself.

And I have to remind myself that being kind to me as I write also involves not feeling guilty about taking more than a week to write a single chapter in this six-book epic that I've been working on since 2022. It will get finished. Eventually. Even one word is one word more than I had before I wrote it.

Delay is part of the process. So is recharging the creative batteries by indulging in fun experiences.

And I would much rather do the fun things than the work.

I'm also delaying with braving myself up to do things. I need to take some blood tests. I need to get my eyes checked and maybe new glasses. Finding excuses to not do either of those things has been a knockout success. Same with not calling up the car service people because they apparently forgot to do an oil change.

I gotta get brave, there. But procrastination is an addictive lure. A little like the temptation to stick my head in the sand and pretend everything is fine.

I need someone to choosh me along. Make appointments for me and make sure I do that. Alas, I only have me, and my shiny distractions are blocking my way.