If procrastination were an art form, I would be a da Vinci, or maybe a Michelangelo, (or most likely an Escher… have you seen inside my thoughts?). In an effort to perfect my art I spent time this afternoon tea drinking, list making, internet surfing, out the window staring, running, and baking (procrastination’s silver lining).
So, anyway, I was browsing the internet today in search of a dress. People keep asking me if I have a dress yet. Am I supposed to have a dress already? The way the questions is framed, it seems as if I’m required to have a dress already. When I’m asked if I have my dress yet, my eyes bug out and I want to scream, “It’s December 11th and I don’t have a Christmas tree, haven’t decorated the house, and haven’t even bought ONE Christmas present for my children — and you ask if I have a dress for a wedding eight months away!?!” Are these people kidding? I have so much
list making, tea drinking, out the window staring, Christmas tree acquiring, house decorating, and present buying to do! I don’t have time to dress shop yet!
I HAVE SO MUCH TO DO! 14 days! Two weeks until Christmas.
So this afternoon, I found myself with an extra four hours since Tommy’s soccer practice was canceled due to cold temperatures, and internet dress shopping seemed like a task requiring immediate attention. Naturally. (Remember, I’m a Rembrandt or a Mary Cassatt.) I did not find a dress, but I do have a question: are mother-of-the-bride dresses purposefully out of style, in colors that have all been muted with mustard yellow, and in unflattering cuts? I wasted about an hour in a google search for mother-of-the-bride dresses.
Only two weeks till Christmas!
I’m suppressing the panic with a warm slice of pumpkin bread.
But in reality, all of it always gets done. I’ve never left anything important undone. Ever. It’s kind of miraculous, actually. I am comforted by the fact that somehow the Christmas magic will float down and settle on our home. Our children will wake to our traditional breakfast of egg casserole and hot homemade donuts, and a beautiful tree weighted down with decorations, and packages containing thoughtful gifts wrapped lovingly in colorful paper and adorned with curly ribbon. Sure, I could beat myself up for being the way I am: I’ve always worked best under pressure. Or I can realize that the kids don’t really care if the house is decorated for four weeks or three, or if the gifts sit in a closet for two months or seven days before they ‘re opened. Somehow I will get it all done. For now, I’m curled up in a soft throw blanket on the couch enjoying the sounds of laughter from the loft, feeling the post-run endorphins coursing through my veins, savoring the smell of pumpkin bread, all while I’m cherishing the thoughts and dreams of my daughter’s wedding day. Procrastination’s not so bad, after all.
That’s another one of my art forms: rationalization. Oh, to be a van Gogh…