Rainy Days and Saturdays

Wrong day, I know. (I saw the Carpenters with my mother and grandmother in 1975. It was my first concert. I wore a green maxi dress, which have come back into style just this year, with an orange sash that I can see vividly in my head as I type this.) And wrong lyrics, really, because I’m not frowning or sad or letting the rain or the day particularly get me down. But I am particularly procrastinating.

Are there any songs about procrastination? Seems like it’d be something a songwriter would put off doing, preventing the song from ever actually being written. Songwriter. That would be a fun job. Sort of like being a comedy writer. Sitting around a table throwing out lines and seeing what lands. And lots of procrastinating. Maybe I’ll google about that. I could use a career change. Career. That’s a funny word. Wonder what the origin....

As you can probably already tell, it’s book proposal weekend, and I’m apparently doing all I can to avoid the final work on it. I’m 95% done. I know, right? You can be impressed for about another…okay, time’s up. I haven’t worked on that last 5% since March. And 95% doesn’t really mean much in the scheme of being done.

There is no justification for this, because it’s not particularly difficult or involved. And I actually want to do it!! In fact, I love it. I love the work, the organization, the puzzle, and especially the accomplishment of it.

So, why? Why have I cleaned the house? Changed the sheets? Done my laundry? Cleaned the dog bowls? Been to the trainer? Made turkey chili? Watched a Netflix flick? Played squeaky ball with the dog? Twice? Talked on the phone? Googled way over my quota for the day? And why am I writing here letting my little Interwebs corner of the world know I’ve failed instead of doing what I want to do and should be doing?

Maybe because if I send it out, it’s sure to be a big hit with every publisher (ha!), and then I’d have nothing to complain about. There’s no comfort in that. But 2011 is the year of my doing things out of my comfort zone and to get this book out there in the Universe. So, I think I need to ask for help. Maybe a volunteer to come over and give me the evil stink eye until it’s done. Or to lock me in an unwired room with my laptop and no Diet Coke until it’s done. Or to come up with exactly the right thing to say and put it on a constant loop in my head until it’s done.

I’ll wait to hear back from you. No hurry, though. I’ve a whole list of stuff I can do to burn daylight avoiding this thing.