Perfect Procrastination

After a morning of errands and exercise, I sat down at my computer for an extended session of writing. It's an ongoing project that I've committed to finish this summer. The research is done, my notebook is organized according to sequence of events. I've written out a rough sketch of the events I'll use. Now it's time to put words on paper in an attempt at a first draft.

Oh, wait, I forgot to send that e-mail to the guy at work. And I promised a copy of a story manuscript to a couple of young readers who agreed to give me some feedback.

And it's Monday. Aren't I supposed to be washing clothes today?

There's the mailman. I could use a breath of fresh air, even if it does feel like I'm breathing in a sauna.

I'm hungry. Right, it's lunchtime. I should eat something.

I really don't like this pen. Where did I put the other one? Nope, don't like this one either. Note to self, buy a big box of those pens I like.

My nose is dripping. Where did I put that box of Kleenex?

Pit stop.

Phone rings and I enjoy a conversation with my daughter. Something in the conversation triggers one of those miraculous brain synapses that takes you somewhere else.

Check the map and see how you get from Denmark to St. Petersburg. (Different book.)

Doorbell rings. Talkative neighbor drops off tomatoes. Now where was that blog I read that recommended calling the most talkative person you can think of as a solution to procrastination? I really can't remember, but yes, it works.

Did I think about supper yet? I hate cooking on writing days. Jump in the car and run to the grocery to grab a rotisserie chicken. Get to the grocery and realize I've forgotten my purse.

Back home. Okay, maybe I'll write for a while and then go back to the grocery.

By the time I get back, there are no more chickens, so I buy scallops instead (they cook fast) and a bag of lettuce.

I give up. Maybe I'll just blog about it. With two pages under my belt, tomorrow will be easier.