This post is all about procrastination. In fact, my purpose for writing this post is so I can avoid working on my poem-in-progress and/or editing the first draft of my completed novel.

Procrastination is an art. Well, it is if you work at it enough. All the things I ordinarily don’t want to do suddenly seem very important and quite urgent when I’m faced with writing. Housecleaning, laundry, organizing my closet – these otherwise loathsome tasks suddenly seem appealing when I’m face-to-face with an open Word document. The only time I really feel like writing, when the ideas are flowing freely, is when I’m at work at the day job. *sigh*

Last year, I decided that in order to devote time to my writing, I needed a dedicated space – an office or at least a desk in a quiet area. My husband, being the amazing man he is, bought me a desk for Christmas. He even bought me some office supplies to make my area more efficient and organized. He set up my desk in an upstairs nook away from the foot traffic and noise. I added some ornamental touches for inspiration, a few pens, post-it notes, and other essentials. And so my “office” was complete.

Still, no writing. My nephew came to visit the day after Christmas. And then my parents came to visit on New Year’s Eve. Rather than ignore them, I abandoned my unused desk to spend time with the family. The house cleared out over a week ago, the day before my youngest son’s birthday (which, of course, we had to celebrate), and then I got the flu. All very valid (but kind of flimsy) excuses for not writing.

Today, after having procrastinated as much as any human being can possibly do, I am sitting at my desk FOR THE FIRST TIME in complete solitude. I have two Word docs open – the unfinished poem and the train wreck of a manuscript. Instead of working on them, I am writing this blog post. At least it’s writing, right?

To anyone who is reading this post, thank you for participating in my procrastination. It might very well be that by reading this post, you too are avoiding your own writing. Well, enough! Get off the internet RIGHT NOW and write. Open up that abandoned WIP and write a new chapter. Revisit that sloppy first draft and start polishing it until it shines. Finish your poem, or your short story, or whatever you’re working on. Just write.

Now it’s time to take my own advice. I bid you all farewell (for now) and wish you success in your writing endeavors. Time for me to get back to work. I’m going to write.