I am SO bad at starting projects. In college, it wasn’t unusual for me to arrive at class in the morning having just pulled an all-nighter in order to finish a paper just by the skin of my teeth. Amazingly, I usually received high marks on those papers, which really only served to reward a bad habit. I must have been doing something right, right? (How did I ever stay up so late? I can barely manage 11pm these days.)
Today, I know better; I realize that procrastination only serves to create a frazzled me and that, no matter how well-written my college writings might have been, they probably would have been better had I chosen not to cram their composition into the few hours before they were due. Yet, still, I procrastinate.
Maybe it’s that I just don’t know where to start. I was not quite five years old the last time I made a significant move (i.e., the entire household had to be moved), so, needless to say, my involvement in the process was negligible, and now I find myself at a loss as to where to begin packing. The fact of the matter is that an awful lot of what needs to be moved — books, recordings, kitchen things — are going to be in use until shortly before moving day. Well, I suppose the books (and there are a LOT of them) could be packed now, but I see little point in tripping over boxes of books for the next two months. Kitchen things will obviously be in use until we move, and naturally we need our furniture and clothes.
So I guess I’ll put off doing any serious packing for a few weeks. Procrastination might just serve me well, this time.