Procrastination
I kept meaning to write about procrastinating, but I have been putting it off. I used to be the type of person who had everything done on time or sooner. My Christmas cards were written out and ready to go by December 1 every year. Bills were paid the day they came in the mail. Gift were bought well in advance of events and wrapped and waiting for the big day. Taxes were done on February 1. The entire house was cleaned on Saturday mornings while the laundry was done. No deadlines were missed at work and sometimes things were done early just in case.
Things changed. Christmas cards usually make it out before Christmas. Gifts are bought on the way to events and instead of being wrapped I use gift bags. Studying is done by cramming at the last minute. Taxes are done when my CPA starts nagging. Cleaning gets done when I am in the mood and not all at once. Laundry I still do regularly. I dont mind laundry.
At work, well, things really had changed for me. I learned after a few years that to do things early or always on time meant getting gifts from other caseloads. Hey, we need you to help so-and-so catch up. Yes, she had the same amount of time you had to do it but we need you to do your work and hers. Why yes, she does get the same pay as you do. Why do you ask? What do you mean, you dont want to redo these 100 cases that someone else did wrong? Isnt your work already done? While you are at it, will you go see these 50 people to see how they are doing at home, and finish up their paperwork? I also have some phone calls for you to do for me.
I think maybe it was work that made me slow down my pace in the rest of my life. I lost the drive to get everything done on time. I didnt want to feel guilty for having free time. It seemed the more I did, the more I found to do. I was exhausted and crabby. Well, that wasnt much of a change. But I learned to slow down and get things done as I was able, and not to stress about it. I learned to walk away from chores and have fun once in awhile.
I hope no one ever told my mom.
1 comment:
I was going to comment on it right after you wrote it but . . . . . . .
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