Procrastination

Procrastination

The alarm beeps as I ever so slightly jerk. It’s an involuntary convulsion I have every morning. I open my eyes to a blue blur against a white ceiling. As the world comes into focus I see 6:00 am emblazoned on a white textured background. I love this clock. It’s annoying in the morning but I don’t even have to turn to see what time it is. My laziness knows no bounds. I don’t have to be at work until 8:30 am but if I’m ever going to write that story I have to get up. Work during the day and time with my fiancé at night doesn’t leave a lot of time for writing and if I’m ever going to become a published author I need to get some sense of order and just get my ass out of bed and do it. It’s easy to say that at night as I set my alarm for 6:00am but come time to do it and it’s a different story. I have so many obstacles in my way though. Ugh.
6:02 am decorates the ceiling. I have to get up. I roll to my left and think “thatta boy” get up and seize the day!” only to have my inner voice silenced by the daunting task of the four feet from my bed to my desk laughing in my face. I know what you’re thinking. You’re probably thinking this guy is lazy. You’re only partially right. I am slightly on the lazy side but it’s not the movement or work that is the problem in the four feet of doom. It’s the distractions. The small terrier that lies on my shins at the bottom of the bed is one of them. If I wake the dog it can go one of two ways: she goes back to sleep or goes to the door to go out. If I have to take the dog out I’m finished. There’s no way I’ll be back to do my story. However, if she goes back to sleep I’m fine and it’s on to the next obstacle. Slowly now I move my feet. I move them apart inches at a time as if I’m the worlds slowest at making a snow angel. As my legs move apart the blanket I’m under becomes a sinking hammock for the dog. My gaze is fixed on the dog. I can’t wake her. As I lay her down gently on the surface of the bed she opens her eyes and her ears rise like two pieces of furry toast popping out of a toaster. Oh crap. Our eyes meet as a bead of sweat forms and rolls down my forehead. It’s too early for such a tense moment. I look at her and she looks at me as we are locked in a starring war to end all starring wars. Neither of us blinks. But then her eyes start to relax and her ears go down. She drifts back to sleep and I breathe a sigh of relief. That was a close one.
The dog is safely back to sleep. Now I lay outstretched and able to roll out of bed to write my story. But again I’m facing the enormous task of getting up. I have to though. I rise up and put my legs over the side of the bed and suddenly I find myself reaching for the television remote. Just as I’m about to push the power button I catch myself and persuade myself to put it back down. “Don’t push that button!” I yell in my head. “It’s not worth it man, there’s nothing on anyway. Just lower the remote slowly and we all walk out of here alive.” My inner voice is a little dramatic and tends to take on the characteristics of movies that I watch the previous night. Dramatic or not, I listen to it most of the time. I put the remote back on the nightstand and I stand and walk the four feet to my computer. It’s already turned on from the night before. I left it on to download a television show I wanted to watch but never got to. 100% downloaded is next to the title and presents yet another challenge. This one however is easy to ignore because my fiancé likes the show too so I’ll save if for tonight. Clicking the red ‘x’ in the top corner of the screen sends the show off the screen and into the back of my mind as my gaze catches the internet icon. Oh sweet irony how you play with me. If one were to look at my favorites it would be filled with links to articles on how to start your novel or story and all kinds of websites to find agents. I don’t know why. I have no need for agents right now since forty five unfinished stories doesn’t add up to a single complete one. I have what one might call attention deficit disorder and before you get all upset over the misdiagnosis of this just remember I was ADD when ADD wasn’t cool. That last part was to the tune of a certain country song I’m reminded of. What fun times I have. Regardless of the news and articles I’d like to read the internet stays closed. One more battle won in the never ending fight to do something constructive.
Holy crap! Have I really made it? Have I made it to the other side of my bedroom without waking the dog, turning on the TV, or getting on the internet? I have, I really really have. It feels great! I look back at the ceiling and the blue numbers over my bed. I did it all in four minutes. That leaves me 86 minutes until I have to get ready for work. I sit down and my brain starts working to come up with something and then like a bolt of lighting I have it! This will be the greatest story ever told! I open up my word processor to write what will be talked about for generations to come and it will be my ticket to fame and literary success! I set my paragraph to automatically double space and I stop and take a look at my accomplishment. Now I’m going to start writing. Just as soon as I get back from the bathroom and have a little breakfast.