About 15 years ago, my dad gave me a four-page article on procrastination. I assume that it outlined some common reasons why people procrastinate, and what steps we should take in order to overcome it. I use the word “assume” because I never read it. I never read it and it was only four pages long. True story. I procrastinated reading an article on procrastination for so many years that, even if I were able to find it, it’s likely outdated and crinkled.
Some people may say that procrastination is a bad habit. I don’t disagree, but it kindof works for me. I feel all sorts of pressure and manage to get things done at the last minute. Sure, it’d be nice to be more organized but I’m not sure that’s a trick that this particular old dog can learn.
I have some bad habits. I have a bad habit of procrastinating and a bad habit of often not being very nice to myself. I do not exercise as much as I should and I often grab food on the go. I need to work on these things. I do.
But I’m far more interested in working on the annoying and somewhat disturbing bad habit I have of imagining my own tragic and untimely death. Becoming a mom has given my life far more value and importance to me, and, for the first time, I’m hyper-aware of how horrible it would be for Tucker to grow up motherless. On an intellectual level, I know that people are able to navigate their lives after having lost a mother during their early years, and I also know that the odds of something terrible happening to me are not that big.
But emotionally, I do not get this at all. I told you guys about how I imagined all sorts of scenarios when I travelled sans Tucker and Robert this past spring.
These thoughts don’t only come when I travel.
I can be happily walking out of a mall, wondering whether I should have paid $100 for a pair of shoes that I didn’t really like but were originally $300 and “OMG I could own a pair of $300 shoes for $100!” (that nobody will notice anyway because they’ll rarely be worn outside of my part-time job) when I am blind-sided by flash-mob thoughts of my imagined tragic death.
A gigantic sinkhole could open up in the parking lot and suck me down into a boiling lava pool.
I might trip, fall down, and be too flustered to move quickly enough to avoid the UPS truck backing up after a delivery.
Part of a dead satellite could fall from the sky and land on my head.
I could be abducted by aliens.
Ok that one’s a lie. I’m not ridiculous, after all. Aliens. Sheesh. Even I know that they prefer to abduct younger people to impregnate with alien babies who will be born looking human but will in fact be plants that feed on our livers while we are in a deep sleep, brought on by their scentless plant emissions.
I have some bad habits. Do you? What are they? Do you worry about random shit like a tree falling on your loved ones? Is it just me?
This has been a Finish the Sentence Friday post. The sentence is “I have a bad habit of…” Next week’s sentence is “I used to love…”
I’m excited to announce that I will now be hosting this most excellent party each week, along with:
Dawn, from Dawn’s Disaster, has decided to move on and will no longer be hosting, although she will still come and play with us when she can by linking up. Please stop by Dawn’s Disaster and thank her for the excellent host-work she’s done in making Finish the Sentence Friday such a fun hop to participate in each week.
Then, come back and link up!