Here’s a quick look into my psyche. I procrastinate. And I’m very good at it. An objective outsider looking at my life might scoff and think I bring all this upon myself because I like being exhausted, not doing my best, and stressing myself out. I hope that’s not the case. My personal theory is that I procrastinate because I’m a lazy little toad who likes her computer a little too much. Some of the agony is self-inflicted, but some tasks are unavoidable…but however many of the latter there may be, that does not excuse my disgusting misappropriation of time.
Note to self: do not emulate self. I’m stupid. 😛
It would be so easy to give up. But as MW was so eloquently putting it, why do you run a race? Is it to run? No. It’s to cross the finish line. You should end better than you started.
There is something to be said for forgetting it all and living in the present. The only problem with that philsophy is the fact that at the end of the week none of your problems have been resolved, and more have been added. Adulthood should be a voluntary transition. Granted, most teens by the time they are eighteen are more than ready to move out of high school and into the “real world” the college bubble offers. I, however, choose to be abnormal and cross my fingers that Peter Pan blows magical dust around me so as to protect me from the dangers and troubles of growing up. I don’t know whether I’m scared more of growing away from my friends or of them growing away from me. More of the latter I think. Now that I’ve finally been reunited with the joy that is being an accepted part of the group, I don’t want to leave it. I don’t want to start all over again.
Last year, I was ready to go to college. I’ve backslid about two or three years since then. Last year I accepted my homeschooling as an unchangeable part of my life and something I learned from (what I had yet to discover). Now I’m anxiously awaiting the revelation of whatever wisdom those four years brought me…because, as I did 2 years ago, at this point I can only see the fact that they separated me from both my friendships and good grades. I’m not so blind as to disregard the blessings I’ve experienced through youth group and Kenya and volunteering and piano lessons and experiencing the gamut of emotions. However, compared to my elation due to knowing where “I once knew a man who had two billy goats…” came from and seeing myself in class pictures…those earlier gifts quickly loose their luster.
And here I am. Typing this sometimes eloquent, sometimes trite blog. And you thought I was exaggerating when I said I was very good at procrastinating. I’ve wasted, what, 20 minutes? I frustrate myself to the point where I think my self-deprecation borders on sin.