I'll name this post later...

A friend at work tells me that while talking to her husband about enlisting me to help make a t-shirt quilt for her grandfather's 75th birthday, her hub says, "Why wait? Let's do it next year," to which she replied, "Well, she's a bit of a procrastinator, so 2 years will be better," and she added to me, "No offense."

No offense was taken. I can't argue. "A bit" is a gross understatement. Take for example the four huge piles of laundry I never folded this weekend, or the box of Christmas ornaments sitting in the corner of my "someday will be-in-order dining room, or much worse, the bills that were late last month, or the preemie-clothes memory quilts that I just finished Sunday night (still to add binding) for my best friend after how many years?!

I hereby commit to improving this aspect of my personality. Today. Not "after the next project's done," or "after I get organized." Today. I'm tired of the guilt and material and emotional clutter.

The procrastinator's mantra, "I work better under pressure." It's a bunch of bull. It reads, "I work under pressure." Give me 2 years and I'll wait a year and a half. Don't give me a deadline, and I'll put it off, too. It's not that I don't have time for things. Heck, I'm blogging right now. What I need is to work on is making the most of my time. And, the recognition of when to say 'Yes' and when to say 'No' and when to ask for 'Help.' Now, in my defense, I have it in me. I do these things, I just need to be better at it.

I wasn't offended by that comment, but deeply embarrassed. Not that I was surprised. But, that's not how I want to be thought of. I don't want to just accept the trait or have others accept it. It affects me and people I love. I am sorry for procrastinating, especially on the important things...the laundry, well...that can wait.