Look. I know this about myself. But I should make it clear to you all, dear readers:
I am a procrastinatin’ bitch.
I try to make excuses about not having time. Not having resources ($$ for sitter) to make the requisite time.
And actually, my excuses fly. But there’s another reason I don’t get stuff done expediently:
I spend a good deal of time worrying about whether I’ll be able to do it or not. Or worrying that I’ll eff it up. I am afraid. Frequently.
And then, of course, everytime I finally sit down to *do* whatever it is I’m expected to do, I’m always THRILLED TO PIECES with myself that I didn’t crash and burn. This has proved to be a marked trend since I began my work here at SU.
As a writer, though, this procrastination shit just doesn’t fly. I gots to find a remedy.