There's Always Tomorrow ...

I am, by any measure, one of the great procrastinators of our age. (I have, in fact, been putting off writing this post for several years.) Being something of a behaviorist, it’s clear to me that procrastination is a rewarding approach to most tasks; otherwise, I would stop doing it. (See? It’s not that I’m lazy, it’s just sciencey stuff about positive reinforcement!) The very fact that I was allowed to go to college, much less graduate, is a testament to the power of the hastily written research paper:

EMDAMOTLA*: Shouldn’t you be working on your dissertation?

Dead Acorn: I’m formulating.

EMDAMOTLA: You’re watching the Bears game, drinking beer in your underwear at noon.

Dead Acorn: I’m a multi-tasker.

EMDAMOTLA: I want an annulment.

I guess my completing college could also be viewed as a damning indictment of our educational system in general, though. The jury’s still out, as they say.

That’s certainly not to say that procrastination always results in mimosas and strawberries, of course. For example, I’ve been putting off raking the leaves, rationalizing this by noting that there are still a few left on the trees, and by god, I ain’t rakin’ that consarn lawn twice! In a related procrastinatory process, I’ve neglected to call and have my sprinklers blown out for the winter. Unfortunately, I’m informed by the Weather Bunny that it’s going to snow this weekend, with temperatures in the 255-260 range (in Kelvin ... 0 to 10 F, -17 to -12 C), so now I’m pretty much guaranteed busted pipes and rotten leaves come the spring. Worse yet, any snowpersons that I construct this year are going to be covered in maple leaves, which will serve as a constant reminder of this country’s blindness to the advantages of the universal health care system enjoyed by our neighbors to the north.

[UPDATE:] I’ve found a lawn-care person who can do the job this afternoon! Woo, I say! Woo, indeed! So let’s see: Stimulating the local economy? Check. Creating an excuse to leave early on a Friday to meet him at my house? Check. Metaphorical mimosas and strawberries once again?

Check and mate.

* Ex-Mrs-Dead-Acorn-Mother-Of-The-Live-Acorn