procrastination stew

I'll be the first to admit my system of getting things done isn't for everyone. In fact, my system hardly even works for me, really. What I need to be doing and what I end up doing are often very different things, thanks in large part to my procrastinating spirit. Gotta prime and paint the wall? Hey check out the purse I just made. Need to mop the floor? Let's plant grass for chumley. The garden should be weeded? Seems like a fine time to learn how to make pumpernickel bread. Yes, no matter how fun something really might be, any time it has to be done, I can think of ten other things that instantly become more attractive to do.

Taxes, unfortunately, are something that can't wait any longer. So I woke up yesterday morning knowing that the day could not end without having made some progress in figuring it all out.

Tiny chumley, on the other hand, woke up with something entirely different on his mind. Little kielbasa found in the foyer the suitcase that he had seen me packing the night before. There in the dark wee hours of morning, chumley perched on the landing like a tiny fly on the wall, surveying the scene before him in hopes of figuring out how his day was going to unfold.

A drive for all of us to the airport pretty much explained everything to Baxter. A pet, a kiss and a wave goodbye from his dad, and little boy galumped through the door when we came back home, ready to start another happy-go-lucky day.

I followed behind with feet dragging, knowing my day would be much less helium filled.

I'll spare the gory details, but yes, I did make a dent in my taxes, and even set my spreadsheets up so things will hopefully be less painful next time. And yes, I even managed to get in some quality procrastination time with the little chumley. No day, it turns out, is complete without it.