Gone With The Wind

I have a major work (as in job) assignment deadline peeking over my shoulder, and, it is in this, my darkest hour, that I have finally come to grips with the power of my own creativity. Nobody else I know could pick reading Gone With The Wind as a procrastination strategy. Perhaps is the problem with working from home. With no fixed hours, and a grudging acceptation that my best work often comes after 10 in the evening, I have resigned myself to waking up exceedingly late and spending all 18 waking hours in front of the computer.... unless of course I go out in the evening... in which case I just blow chunks all over the whole stinking day!

It always starts diligently enough. I wake up, check my email, make some tea, fix something to munch on, watch the lunchtime news, and then proceed to usual fixes (blogs, sports, newspapers) before eventually moving onto more unsalient options: games.com to play Boggle online; chat; ebay; oc forums... By the time the panic sets in, it's time for dinner. At which point I fix myself dinner, eat it, write something (boring and idiotic) on my blog, and perhaps listen to music. At around 10, something clicks and I finally get to work. If we were to count it, I spend about 10 hours a day procrastinating.

This already irksome fact has further taken a strange turn. I spent all last night, from around midnight to 11 this morning reading Gone With The Wind. I don't know why. It's just such a trap because this is a helluva hard book to put down. This afternoon, bleary eyed, I spent two and half hours crying over my incredible feat of procrastination, in a fit of self-hate.

I have to admit I'm not usually this lazy. I mean, I never miss deadlines and I do a fairly good job. But, with Benoit being away, and not having anyone to around to whip my ass into shape, coupled with the multiple dinner/drink invitations I didn't refuse, this project is starting to damn well scare me. Will I be able to finish it? I hope so, I think so, but, if there's one thing I disagree on with Scarlett, tomorrow is not another day... Right now it's more like Groudhog's Day (film). What is happening to my sense of time?