Procrastination Destination

Am I editing or am I re-writing? Most of my afternoon was spent typing, and retyping a story that I began with fervor two weeks ago before finishing a poorly constructed first draft and promptly ignoring the story for a full two weeks. In the grand scheme of things this is kind of okay. I'm not being paid to write about international art thieves, I haven't been given a truckload of money and a swiftly approaching deadline, or a third thing - so I should be able to take as much time off from my personal work as I like. Except when I do I feel like shit. But I can't stop taking breaks! I love it! I rewarded myself for retouching the first three paragraphs of my story with playing scrabble and writing this blog post. Here's the kicker -

Even now I'm procrastinating with this blog post by adding tags to the post and checking out Vulture's "7 Books You Need to Read This July," and while Last Stories and Other Stories, by William T. Vollmann seems to have an alluring quality around it, I have a stack of books to work my way through before they topple over and no one is happy with me. 

That last sentence was almost a break into a whole new post! I can't stop. I'm addicted to procrastination. So much so that lately I've been reading up on the best way to keep from dawdling in the 21st century when you work on a computer and can therefore google whatever you want and also watch a movie (today I watched two episodes of MST3K while I did some work and then I watched The Late Shift because of course I did). What I've gleaned from my many online sources is that I should be buying a program that shuts down all of my applications except for my word processor, turning off my wifi, not even using MS Word, writing only twenty minutes a day, and not doing it at home, the office, a coffee shop, or anywhere else where I may be distracted. What's a girl to do?

It's with a heavy heart that I'm informing you that I'll be writing from inside the lip of an active volcano, the possibility of a burning and ashy death is the only thing that can get me to finish writing this story and submitting it to a literary journal on time. Right after I work on a new work out playlist and comb through Netflix for the next hour.