Last minutes…

C.E. Grundler

Procrastination is defined as the act of replacing high-priority or important actions with tasks of lower priority, or doing something from which one brings enjoyment, and thus putting off important tasks to a later time. I have my own definition for procrastination – a luxury, and one I rarely have.

My life has a way of expanding to consume whatever time exists. Family, both human and four-footed, obligations, an old house, writing, not to mention an old boat… if it's not one thing, it's another. My days start well before sunrise and extend well into the night, with a few hours of sleep in between. As a rule, I usually have more things to do than time to accomplish them in, and I tend to operate on a 'Which first is first?' approach, forging ahead from project to project. That's just the way it is.

The other day a friend asked me if I need to wait for inspiration in order to write, and I'll admit, that did amuse me. Inspiration? I don't need no stinkin' inspiration! I've seen writer's block described as the time when the voices in your head won't talk to you. I guess I'm lucky that way… my voices won't shut the f*** up, and the minute my fingers hit the keyboard, the words come. I'm not saying they're always the right words, or even good words, but they come and I let them flow, then sort them out later. That's what revisions are for. Inspiration is nice, but aggravation, frustration, elation… they all work. Even boredom. In fact, once I start writing, my mood tends to reflect whatever fills the page, rather than the reverse.

In the end, I'll admit that much of what I write, and my life in general, winds up being last minute. And yes, that includes these posts. Since I've begun, the truth is a good 95% of them have been written the same morning they're posted. But it's not that I'm procrastinating – it's just that my days, from dawn to dusk and beyond, are nothing but a series of non-stop last minutes.

 

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