On Procrastination...

I have a problem. And its name is Procrastination.

Seriously, I have a black belt in Time Wasting.

It's a problem I've had all my life, and I fight it all the time... getting packed for a trip, I'm still stuffing underwear into the suitcase as the car pulls up to the curb. Putting away laundry only happens when the mountain of clean clothes fully overtakes the kitchen table and threatens to erupt onto the floor. Grocery shopping? Forget about it. I'm the Queen of I'll-Stop-And-Just-Get-One-Thing. I run my car until it's empty because I hate stopping for gas. I dodge every deadline until the very last moment. And I hit the snooze button about 20 times in the morning, up until the exact second before it becomes too late.

And, frankly, sometimes I'm too late. It's genetic. I promise.

Well, this Spring Break turned into the Week of Postponed trips (and all for very good reasons), so last Saturday, I promised myself, "one day of time suck, and then -- PROJECTS".  Let me tell you how that went:

I finished watching "Breaking Bad". I caught up on all of the movies I had been missing. I watched the True Detective finale 3 times. I spent Sunday with a friend in Dallas. I spent a couple of afternoons at a nearby patio, checking their margarita supply. I wrote. I read. I saw every game of the ACC basketball tournament -- and it's a 15-team league. I got a manicure and pedicure and then proceeded to wander around Target for an afternoon and wound up buying oranges and Diet Coke. So... yeah.

I did not clean out closets.

I did not schedule doctors' appointments.

I did not renew my driver's license (although, for real, someone make me do this tomorrow).

I did not take the 4 (FOUR, y'all) boxes of things I cleaned out of closets (at Christmastime) to Salvation Army.

And, I most certainly did not clean out the other closet, the junk drawers in the kitchen, or my bookshelves.

That is until last night when I started cleaning out cabinets and the refrigerator (expiration date check) and the medicine cabinet (more expiration date checks -- I found Pepto Bismol tablets from college, y'all) and on and on and on.

Just since 5:00 tonight, I've done the dishes, 5 loads of laundry, re-organized the linen closet, the bathroom, the kitchen, and sorted out my entire sock drawer. I've developed a bit of a sock problem. I've also decided that if you are a man who can fold a fitted sheet, I will marry you. Truly. You don't even have to buy a ring.

You know how they talk about how runners hit a "runner's high"? I think I've hit the "cleaner's high". It's pretty elusive (although not as much as that stupid runner's high myth), but I think I'm there. (Or maybe that's just the Clorox fumes.) The only problem is that it's 11:32 PM on the last night of Project Spring Break, and I've got to be at work in only about 7 more hours.

See? A black belt. I think it's in the dryer, or I swear I'd show you.