An incredibly unappealing list sits in my notebook right now. It’s a page and a half of things I’ve been meaning to do but haven’t. I wrote it out one afternoon in January and was very, very tempted to put off making that list my challenge for yet another month. I just know I’m going to hate it. It will involve me facing home repair projects I know absolutely nothing about. It will involve sending out writing submissions despite the way that process makes me want to stab my eyes out with a dull knife. It will mean making a lot of phone calls, which I like a great deal less than working on writing submissions.
What I keep telling myself about this challenge is that, first of all, it’s a challenge. It’s not supposed to be easy. I also keep reminding myself of how happy I’ll be come May, when I’ve completed a bunch of nagging little projects and embarrassingly delayed commitments. Maybe I’ll also be able to examine and curb some of my more mundane procrastination tendencies. Can I catch myself saying I’ll do the dishes later and simply go do them now? Maybe I can learn to roll out my yoga mat or sit down to my writing the moment I think about doing it instead of going through the wasteful negotiations with myself over why waiting two or maybe six hours would be so much better.
I’ve tried to start the month off right, by writing this post a few hours before April actually starts, despite the fact that I was just staring at my schedule for tomorrow and telling myself that I’d have nothing to do after work and could write it then and wouldn’t that be ideal? Oh, the funny little dances our funny little brains do.
Now off to fold that giant stack of laundry…