The reason I'm procrastinating is not because it's Sunday, or because I'd rather be playing, although both of those things are true. And it's not because it's pretty and sunny outside, which makes me long to go for a run, and if I added up all the random procrastinating minutes, I could've just gone for the damn run rather than feeling guilty wasting the time running when I should be working.
The real reason is that I'm afraid I won't do a good job, though. I have three speeches to write, and don't really know a lot about any of the topics.
I tell myself I'm smart, and that I have material to read, and that I can in fact craft good speeches on all three topics. My mantra has started to be "You're smart. You can figure this out."
But I have this little voice that says, "Except maybe you can't."
I start thinking about them, and get all self-doubt-y and nervous. And then I pick up the folder with the first topic. And promptly put it back down. Because what if I don't do a good job? What if I can't figure out the right thing to say? What if he doesn't like what I've written? What if I'm not actually that smart?
Part of the problem, OK, most of the problem, is that I lack discipline. If I were someone else I'd have forced myself to just start slogging. But me? I fret. I fuck around. I postpone. I re-fret.
I do this until I really really really have no margin for fuckaroundiness any longer. This is the point I've reached. This is my last little bit of time-wasting that I'm going to allow myself. Because as it is I am going to be working till late late late. As in later than late.
This post is not really a time waste, though. It's catharsis. I feel better having gotten it out.
And now? Now I'm really really honest-to-god going to work.
If you see me back on here, please give me a stern talking-to.