Are you still there?

I am too. There, I mean, here.

I  think  this is the main reason we still write and send Christmas (or Hanukah or whatever) cards every year, just to reassure people that we are still on this planet and have a few marbles left to play with. It reminds me of a beer parlour game we used to play. One of the participants leaves the room and everyone has to guess who's  left.  It was remarkable how many people didn't know if the'd left.  It depended on how much beer they'd had.,  Well, you  had to be there - that was the point.  You had to be there.  Still do.  I am.  Here.

The blessing and the curse of procrastination

It's going to sound like rationalization and self-jusirficartion but as I muzzy along I find there is something to be said for procrastinating,on many levels and applied to different activities. In My Other LIfe, in the days before Perma Press, I used to look at the basket piled high with clean but wrinkled clothes and worry less about mildew than the fear that by the time I got around to ironing them, they wouldn't fit anyone I knew. The first grant I ever received to encourage me with my writing was from my husband: a Wylie Grant for Ironing. I used the money to pay someone to iron the clothes so I could use the time more creatively.  

It didn't work with mending, though.

Now with coupons. I intend to clip coupons for discounts and freebies  but I'm so happy when the expiry date arrives and I don't have to feel guilty about not using them. Some people feel that way about leftovers.  They push food into the equivalent of a petrie dish at the back of the fridge and wait for the mould  to spread so they are justified in throwing out the contents. I don't/can't do that.  My first cookbook was about leftovers (Encore, The Leftovers Cookbook)

I think it's the feeling of relief that procrastination brings that makes it so appealing.  Time is on your side.  Wait long enough and nothing happens. What a relief.