Procrastination

Monday mornings come around once a week no matter how many times the snooze alarm is pushed. I really do enjoy the weekends, but on Mondays I find some happiness in going to go back to my office. One of the simple pleasures of my work week is watching trains go by. When my wife, Rhonda, designed the layout of my office she wisely positioned my desk so I can look out the window (over the years she has noticed that I like doing that).

Freight trains must run on a looser schedule than a passenger train with a predictable pattern because I have not been able to find any set schedule in their comings and goings. Yet, it is the seemingly unscheduled running that makes their arrival appealing – a surprise or two in the day.

Saturday I spent the day at a rather unappealing scheduled meeting. It was long and it drained me of my energy. When I got home I parked the truck in the garage and walked to the mailbox, it was then that I noticed how sloppy the driveway was compared to the gravel road in front of our farm. The road was drying nicely as it had been cleared of the unseasonable April snow by the township’s plow driver, whereas I had elected not to move the snow from the same storm as I was certain that in a day or two it would melt. I was right, but my wet shoes and sock were the price I paid.

As I opened the mailbox it rocked back and forth threatening to spew its contents all over the road. The mailbox sits on a couple boards and one of them had become loose and was in need of repair. It was not the fault of a wayward plow; the problem with the board is one of time and weather having its way. I have every intention to repair it, just not today and probably not tomorrow.

I don’t view it as procrastination (such an ugly word), I was prioritizing. I wasn’t putting it off since the need was not immediate, so I will wait until I have either the time or the mailbox is lying on the ground.  As I slogged back to the house I thought of the writing which must be done if it is to be submitted for publication. That will be done sooner or later as well – and as I don’t have an essay topic in mind yet, it looks to be later than sooner.

There is a time in which the editor must have the essay if it is to be considered for publication. That deadline looms ever larger as it approaches, much like the horn of an approaching train. You know it’s coming but you cannot stop it; the warning lights begin to flash and the cross arms drop. You begin to feel the rumble and soon you can think of nothing else.

Deadlines are both exciting and anxiety producing. Some people work better under pressure, others get crushed. If given a choice between getting something done on one day or the next, I will usually choose the earlier one as I cannot be certain of what is coming down the tracks. I say usually, because sometimes the right time or idea just hasn’t arrived yet.

Take Saturday for instance, I would have loved to have spent the day writing and reading but there was the meeting that took all morning and the better part of an afternoon. By the time I got home I was exhausted and not thinking clearly, so much so that I didn’t notice the messiness of the driveway until I was ankle deep in it. But still in mind was the Monday morning deadline coming round the corner with no way to stop it.