After the ex’s asinine comment on Friday put me in the mood to brawl, I decided a night out with BC was in order. We met up for “a low key night” at the local watering hole. As usual, one bourbon led to another, and before I knew it we were crawling out of an after hours bar at 5 am. I took over the jukebox and played what I wanted and danced with anyone walking by until the bourbon insisted I sit.down.right.now.
As you may imagine, Saturday morning I was feeling the pain. After two hours awake doing some homework, I crawled back upstairs into bed and slept until four p.m. BC called and asked whether he had in fact been hit by a truck the night before. I assured him that I didn’t remember said truck, but that I was pretty sure that the after hours bar bought their cheap bourbon from the devil himself. A lovely gentleman brought me Peruvian food for dinner (thanks Wheel Deliver), I pulled on the comfiest shorts and T-shirt I had clean, and settled in to watch the Georgia-Alabama football game on ESPN, sure that GA was gonna be a winner. Sadly, I was mistaken. I believe Alabama may have made some deals with the devil of their own.
Now that I am a student again, I have these crazy things called “assignments” that my “professor” likes to have due on Sunday nights. Could I start these assignments during the week and have them ready to turn in on the weekend? Sure. I could also change my entire procrastination-loving nature and become the first five foot tall woman in the NBA. Not gonna happen. Every week I know it’s coming and I stall until Sunday afternoon when I want to be reading and writing fun things to do whatever assignment pops up for the week. By Sunday evening, I’m generally typing as fast as my little fingers will carry me and hitting send right at the deadline.
This week, I whined even more than usual about spending my Sunday on a two page writing assignment. Yes, two pages. In undergrad, I could have finished two pages in less than an hour with proper citations and time to watch bad t.v. before printing. I am old and lazy and whiny, however. I convinced myself that two pages was going to take me forever. Then I took a shower. And organized my iTunes. And put away the dishes. And did my morning pages for The Artist’s Way. And helped a friend with his resume and a few job applications. And made three or four phone calls. And heated up a little Peruvian takeout left over from Saturday. And stalled.
When I finally sat down to write said assignment, I was cranky and mad about it, sure that it was ruining a perfectly good Sunday. Except that I finished it. In under an hour. And looked at myself and laughed.