Procasternating what needs to be done...

I am currently involved in an effort to perfect the process of procrastination, and I find that I am excellent at it. It's so comforting to find something at which I am excellent--other than arranging my three hairs and often saying something stupid or out of place which requires an apology and community service hours.

I don't procrastinate everything. In fact, I don't procrastinate very often, but when I do, I want it to count for something, make a statement, drive everyone (and me) crazy as I try to warp-speed my way through whatever it was that I should have done earlier and didn't. For some reason, since my "retirement" from working (only temporary boys and girls), I have been slow to get up, get showered and get dressed. I don't know why I have chosen these particular daily events in my life to defer, but defer I do. I do get up. I do put on a loungey outfit. I do function and take care of lots of tasks and things on my To Do list, but I fight against keeping a routine-driven schedule by not showering until I need to do so (for an appointment or to run errands) or when my papier mache pig starts to complain or the plants I keep in the house begin to wither and swoon. I am sitting at my computer composing this blog post dressed in my sad, slightly tattered pink bathrobe and slippers with the hair on the left side of my head standing straight out as if it were a flag in a brisk wind. I will remain in this outfit until I have to clean up in an hour--I have an appointment that forces me to shower before Noon!

The downside of this new routine a la procrastination is answering my front door if someone knocks--the postal person, a friend, kids soliciting money for school events, etc. Sometimes I pretend not to be home. I stand very still in a place away from any windows, make no noise, and wait for whoever to go away. (I was always pretty good at playing "statue"--a childhood game--and all that youthful effort is paying off.) If I do open the door, I only open it a crack, because I don't want to be arrested for emotional assault and end up paying for someone's therapy for years. If it's someone I don't like or don't want to talk to, I boldly open the door, scare the Hades out of the "visitor" and watch him or her back pedal off my front porch. Ha! Take that, uninvited guest!! And, once again, I am left to my own devices, my smelly, disheveled body, and a hairdo that would make a rock star jealous.

So, if you are planning to come to my house any time soon, please call ahead, alert me and I'll make myself presentable...maybe, unless I'm in a procrastinating kind of mood.