My friends, I am procrastinating.  And, seriously, what else is blogging for?  I mean, sure, there’s the whole public discourse thing (aka blithering on about your life and hoping that it’s interesting enough that even total strangers might want to read it – hi, Gebba!), and the inescapable naval-gazing, but really, blogging is all about putting off other things.  Like starting on the whole-house cleaning necessary before I allow company to come over, or getting a move on the Christmas presents I did not work on last night (though I will say that things did look much better in the morning, even if the thing I was focusing on was the clock telling me that it was five minutes past when I need to be walking out the door for work, not the time when I should be just thinking about emerging from my cozy cocoon of blankets), or Lord knows so many other projects.

I’m being intimidated by the stack of dishes in the sink (what happens when you spend the weekend sewing, and telling yourself that you’ll get around to taking care of that after you finish this project that is inexplicably taking about fifty million times longer than you thought it would), and secretly longing to chuck all these things I ought to be doing in favor of making something selfishly unnecessary (which in my case means either another pair of slippers (I need to test the pattern before I make the actual gift, right?) or some pretty new underthings.  Which I don’t strictly need, particularly not before Christmas, but I want to try out the pattern I found in this book, and there’s all that pretty pink satin just waiting to be used, and… like that.  So I’m blogging, at least in part because it keeps my fingers busy enough that they don’t start reaching for the fabric shears before I even know it.

On the plus side, today my boss announced that, in order to help keep things simple and reduce stress this holiday season, our department was not doing presents.  So that’s seven presents I don’t have to make after all.  Except I’m a person who goes by contraries, so now I want to make some of the presents anyway, except I’ll just give them on the DL to the people I actually feel close to.  But then my inner schoolteacher comes to life, and sternly insists that this is not fair, that if I’m going to give presents to one person, I need to give them to everyone, and since I can’t give them to everyone without directly going against my boss, I shouldn’t give presents at all.  At which point my inner rebellious teenager sticks her nose in the air, says some rather judgmental things about people who are so stuck on rules, and whispers in my ear that the subterfuge can only add spice to the fun of giving presents.  I have to say, it’s a lot more fun to listen to my inner rebellious teenager.

If I’m not careful, I’m going to procrastinate the whole evening away, and then I’ll go to bed frustrated and annoyed, and still without having gotten anything done at all.  Except blogging, which doesn’t really count.*


*Of course blogging counts.  It just doesn’t get the dishes done, which is kinda the problem.