Ever had one of those days when you intend to be super productive—only to spend the entire day perfecting your “do nothing” skills? I swear (not to brag or anything) I’ve elevated procrastination to an art form. I don’t mean to imply that I literally do nothing, as in sitting and staring at four walls. But I can spend the day doing everything except the one thing I really need to do. You might say I’ve mastered the art of creative procrastination. It’s not that I’m lazy. I’m quite productive—just not in the direction I’m supposed to be.

For example, if I need to write an article or make a phone call I’ve been dreading, my brain helpfully suggests, “You know what would really get those creative juices flowing? Re-reading your entire blog archive from 2018.” And suddenly, I’m lost in a black hole of my own brilliance, chuckling at my past self and thinking, “Wow, I used to be funny. What happened?”

By then, it’s lunchtime, and I have to download the crossword puzzles to give me something to do while I eat, not to mention mentally warm up to write that article. Except I can’t walk away from a puzzle with five blank squares, so now I’m on an all-out mission to find a 7-letter word for “regret” that starts with R and ends with E. (It’s remorse, by the way. You’re welcome.)

So, it’s back to the computer to try to find that elusive word, but first, just a quick game of Solitaire to clear my head. Rats. I didn’t win that one. Just one more. Before I know it, thirty minutes has passed and my Solitaire score is in the hole. Good thing I’m not playing for real money.

I really need to finish my article and/or make that phone call, but I’ve been sitting at the computer for hours. What I need is some fresh air and exercise—which will give me inspiration. The dogs are supportive of my procrastination as long as it involves a walk. But while I’m walking, my mind wanders to the refrigerator, which should be cleaned out before I go grocery shopping tomorrow. Otherwise, the leftovers will be pushed even farther back into the frig until they become a science project.

Back at home, I start with the first refrigerator shelf and work all the way down to the second shelf before I realize this job is too big to tackle right now, and I spy the dirty baseboards. Faster than someone yelling “Squirrel” to a dog, my brain shifts gears, and I’m on my knees scrubbing baseboards. But only half the baseboards because the next thing I know, I’m sitting on the floor in my kitchen re-organizing the items under my sink because I ran out of cleanser and thought there might be some in here, but since I’m here, this storage area could really stand to be cleaned out.

I leave everything out in the middle of the kitchen floor because I need to get back to those things I’ve been avoiding. But it’s too late to start now. I’ve got to get dinner on the table before Jeopardy comes on, even if it means stepping over all the items left on the floor—or shoving them against the clean baseboards. After Jeopardy, I’m too tired to deal with writing or making phone calls. So, I’ll relax while I binge-watch Castle.

As Scarlett O’Hara said, “I’ll think about that tomorrow.”

Who am I to argue with a Southern icon?

What’s your number one form of procrastination?

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