Anticipation, procrastination...whatever.
We're going on vacation soon, and there's always so much to do. I hammered out so much work yesterday that I'm feeling lazy today.
What? An 80-minute workout this morning isn't enough for one day? I should do more? Look, the laundry has at least been folded. Most of the stuff is packed into suitcases anyway. I cleaned the kitchen. I ran the vacuum. You could eat off the damn floor. I helped the children get dressed. Yes, there are files all over my desk that need attention. Yes, I was supposed to turn in this week's short fiction to my writers' club...oh, about twenty minutes ago. What can I say? Me Muse ran off and hid, she did. If you find her, please drop her into any mailbox and I'll gladly pay the return postage.
What was I saying? Oh, yes. Procrastination. I made a pot of coffee. I want to drink a cup while it's hot. While the children are blessedly occupied coloring pictures for their grandparents (there's something awfully endearing about a five-year-old's rendering of a fireman rescuing a puppy stuck in a tall tree).
And so I will. >sip<
Ahhhhh. That was good.
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