Procrastination has become a sort of a specialty these days. Sometimes, it pays off, like when I'm avoiding housework or laundry or mowing the lawn and writing instead. Every once in a while, and fortunately not often, I find myself doing other things and procrastinating on the writing. Today was one of those days where the writing was the thing being avoided.
Coffee was brewed and consumed and hours were invested in Mad Men episodes (two), History Channel shows on Medieval castles and battle gear, and online news, Facebook and email. Then it was time to get ready for lunch with friends at one of the Korean restaurants in town, which meant slapping on some makeup to accentuate my eyes and tone down the pasty Halloween-esque pallor with which I am blessed and which has been known to frighten children and small house pets.
Three of us relaxed over lunch, and conversation about our favorite local thrift shops evolved into a trip to one of them. While some late 70s funk played on the in-store music system, I reduced a motherlode of 15 sweaters of cashmere, silk, merino wool and cotton to a more manageable (and affordable) three plus one blouse. The three of us browsed (and laughed at) housewares, electronics and toys including more foot massagers than seemed possible, a crazy assortment of ever-so-slightly defective 12-inch decorative Christmas trees and an entire shelf of "As Seen on TV" fitness kits starring Billy Blanks of Tai-Bo fame.
Nearly five hours later, I alighted back at my house, where it was just a bit too dark to walk the dogs, a task I had delayed during my pajama-clad morning Internet marathon. That's when it became cable schedule roulette trying to find a show with football scores so I could check on the Patriots game which was not televised in my region, as CBS was broadcasting San Diego/Denver and not Indianapolis/New England. Jerks.
There was a dance around the channels with several short shows before finally settling on a couple Lifetime "I can't believe it's all Christmas movies already" movies. I gotta hand it to the Lifetime folks, the world premier of "Holiday Spin" has me ready to move to Miami and take up competitive ballroom dancing. Not that I have ever done any ballroom dancing or have a partner, but heck, my grandmother did exhibition ball room dance, so it's probably in my genetic structure, right?
The evening's procrastinating took a brief, slightly athletic turn when I laced up my skates for the second time since breaking my leg. This time, however, thanks to the wipeout, bruised wrist and $150 doctor bill that resulted from the first attempt a few months ago, I remembered to use my wrist guards.
A chapter in domesticity included three hand/wash delicate cycles of laundry (gotta get the thrift store stink out of all those "new" sweaters) and a waltz around the house with the vacuum. This procrastinating was taking on new, majestic tones, as these are the same activities usually being avoided by writing and not the other way around. But there was at least the satisfaction of accomplishing something productive -- the house was getting cleaned, the laundry was being done -- it was quite possibly the best bout of avoidance behavior that ever descended around me. I expect a Good Housekeeping award to arrive any minute.