Piles of bills, mail and magazines accumulate on my desk at home, ("I'll get to you tomorrow!" I say to the pile, with all good intentions as I give it a pat and walk out the door). Tomorrow becomes today. Another day and there is yet another tomorrow. Weeks of tomorrows flee and I can hardly glance at the sorry pile! After a while I start to ignore said pile; I just pretend not to see it. How long can you avoid it? Does it have to spill to the ground in Jenga-like defeat?
Due dates loom and the psychological torture of the pile peaks. Breathe. OK. Now. Seriously, NOW. False start. Tomorrow is now. OK, I WILL. Shake it off. I am. Sit down and take a minute, maybe five and go through it. Huh. That's it? All that build-up and now it is done. Free and clear. Now I can go outside and play!
The result is a complete sense of relief, accomplishment and the added bonus of having a desk cleared of clutter: emotional and otherwise. Why did it take so long to tackle? Why did you let it manipulate you so? Is it for the relief? The great exhale? Are the piles like the tides, ebbing and flowing on your sandy shores of a kingdom called Procrastinate?
No doubt the girth of the piles are a direct reflection of what's going on inside. (Side-note:I also believe that your car is a reflection of how you are feeling about yourself and your life. Often I find that the volume of the pile directly correlates to the filth of the car. Perhaps there is a connection between having my car washed and posting today after four months of total abandonment?)
That being said...Today: I post. Tonight: the piles get the smack-down. Tomorrow: we'll see . . .
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
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