We crave instant gratification. We're lazy. We have a fear of failure. There's no deadline. The high priority action that you have to complete pushes you out of your comfort zone.
Enter procrastination. We all do it. And some of us are better at it than most. Like moi!
I have my tried and true go to's, like emptying the dishwasher at a snails pace, or putting in a load of laundry, even though it's a shirt and bra. I'll find a Pilates studio for a friend out of state, because clearly they don't have time to Google, like I do. I've done the itunes, Youtube, Facebook and Twitter shuffle. Child's play.
There's the cliched sock, and or undergarment drawer, that needed organizing, because if I didn't get to it that very minute, all hell would break loose, and I wouldn't be able to focus on my high priority action.
I've had to call friends that I really didn't want to speak to because I was procrastinating. I've sifted through scraps of paper laying around my office for hours (rereading each and every one of them of course) and filed the TO BE FILED file, that had been in need of some TLC for months.
I've tweeted Cher, and bought a menagerie of 'things' online, only to change my mind when it came time to checking out because I was too lazy to fetch my credit card.
But the other day, I took two empty 2lb Pro Energy Whey Protein Powder (Vanilla) canisters filled with change (pennies, nickels, dimes and quarters) out of the hall closet. I found several coin wrappers and I stood in front of the dining room table, hunched over (bad Pilates instructor, very bad) and began to WRAP!
Fact. Coinstar, found in some grocery stores, may charge up to 8% to count your change that you dump into their bin. No way. That's my money. Well, mine and my boyfriend's. Besides, I'm procrastinating. I've got time. It's a win-win situation. Right?
However, around the fifty dollar mark, my neck started aching from bending over the mounds of metal. I also realized, with the help of my boyfriend's judging glances, that perhaps I had procrastinated enough for one day.
There's often a defining moment in the procrastinators dance, when he or she gets a wee disgusted with themselves. So much so that getting back to work seems like the only option. I had the moment and I had fifty dollars. Okay, twenty-five dollars, although I think I should get more since I'm the one who took time away from my high priority work to wrap these dirty coins. Right?