Hey there, awesome readers!
As a freelance writer working from home, I don’t technically have a boss. Instead, I’m kept in line by a three headed Muse that I invoke daily in the form of to-do lists.
My “need to do list” consists of work; client projects, marketing, etc.
My “want to do list” includes personal writing and hobbies (working on my novel, playing guitar, going to the gym).
And then there’s my “hate to do list” that strictly dictates household chores, poop-patrol in the yard . . . stuff that I really don’t want to do and can’t bear to think about the consequences of not doing them.
This morning, despite the fact that it’s Saturday, I was doing really well with all aspects of my to-do lists. Before 9 a.m. I had finished the laundry, vacuumed, cleaned the bathroom and finished a client web page.
I was on a roll (translation: I hadn’t opened Spider Solitaire even once!)
Then the door bell rang.
I opened my front door to be greeted by two men in suits. Mild mannered (also known as passive aggressive), they wanted to talk to me about, well, God. That’s right. Jehovah Witnesses.
As with every other time that they’ve come knocking on my door, I quickly told them that I’m not interested. Not that I’m not interested in God. I’m just not interested in THEIR God. Then something happened in the middle of my rejection. I suddenly developed an insatiable thirst for their message and accepted their Watchtower publication.
We said our “good-byes” and instead of coming back to work, I sat down and started reading about how I could give my life “real meaning”. I was half-way through the 30-page booklet when I realized what I was doing.
The next time they come (oh and they will come) I will tell them about how their pedestrian delivery of God’s word is actually Satan in disguise. Camouflaged as salvation, they’re actually working for the wrong team.
And I’m prepared. I have a bowl of garlic and salt ready at the door.
I was just thinking this morning about my new heights of procrastination and wondering if it’s just age…pure laziness….or the heat. But…my dear….you have scaled the mountain of procrastination! You know….I KNOW you know….that they will now be forever at your door. Consider them your new family. My condolences. Now go shine your shoes.
Mona Andrei says
Shoes are shined. Now what can I do?