The Art of Procrastination

I never noticed it before, but the clock on my desk is loud when the room is quiet. Tick, tock, tick, tock. Every time I look up, another minute has passed.

In the quiet, I find myself noticing little things -- the fine layer of dust covering the books on the shelf and how the pictures on the wall are slightly crooked.

I'm not taking time to step back from life so I can notice the small details in life. I'm procrastinating, and if there's one thing I'm good at, it's procrastinating.

Today, I'm putting off writing this column because the creative juices are not flowing. So I decide to distract myself and start with the load of towels I left in the dryer last night.

I thought I'd find some inspiration between the fabric softener sheets and the wash cloths, but, alas, there was none to be found.

So I looked inside the refrigerator because we all know inspiration lies somewhere between last night's left-over pork chops and mashed potatoes.

I could write about the unknown contents of those two plastic bowls in the back of the fridge, but that's only good for a paragraph or two. Besides, I really don't want to know what's developing underneath the Saran Wrap.

Hearing our dog's collar jingle, I get up and play with her for a little bit. Perhaps throwing the ball to Channell might start those creative juices flowing.

The only thing that distraction accomplished was having our energetic pup tromp over the bushes my husband just planted.

Sometimes flipping through the television channels sparks a bit of creativity. With over 150 channels, there's bound to be something interesting and captivating to watch and then write about.

I found myself glued to an episode of "Hoarders," which led me to throw away those plastic bowls in the fridge sight unseen, and then clear all the clutter off the kitchen counter.

So, hours after I started, I'm still sitting here, tapping my index finger on the computer mouse, trying to find inspiration.

Instead, I find myself wondering why I have so many stacks of paper around my desk. In one stack, I find the invitation to my niece's wedding and remember I never got around to making our hotel reservations.

Then I see the envelope inviting me to order a new women's magazine. Wondering what future issues might offer, I fire up the Internet, read about the publication's plans and find myself sidetracked into reading about the history of Earth Day.

Then I remember I meant to recycle the newspapers on the kitchen table. Before putting the stack into the recycling bin, though, I spot a few columns I meant to read, so I sit down and put on my glasses.

That's when I remember that pork chop in the fridge, so I warm it up, fix a glass of iced tea and tell myself I'm just stoking the creative fires.

After that quick power snack, I once again sit down at the computer, ready to crank out a column, because the creative juices should be flowing.

The only thing I notice is how loud that clock is ticking.

So I move the clock to the back bedroom and notice my granddaughter has left out some toys from her Sunday visit.

While picking up the accessories to her princess doll collection, I remember all the ways she tried avoiding going to bed, including saying she was hungry, she needed to color one more page and could I pretty please read her just one more story.

Procrastination and distraction. Two tricks that often work or, in the case of the Adams' women, can get us off the hot seat.

At least for a little while.

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.