I have this thing with procrastination. I do it. Yeah, that's basically it.
I don't know why. Well, I actually do know why – it's usually because I don't want to do something, because I want to take the easy route. Because even though I want to have done something, I simply don't want to actually do it.
Because really, that's the problem with most of the things we do. We, as human beings, have many things we want to have done – usually the things we need to do, but sometimes just the things which will benefit us – but we don't really want to do them. I believe Mark Twain put it the most eloquently: "A classic is something everybody wants to have read, but no one wants to read."
The interesting thing is when I push off something which I want to do, not just want to have done.
There are many things like that. One of them was my posting to steemit – when I first started doing it, I was doing it because I wanted to do it, not because I wanted to make money or brag about writing a blog. Writing a blog is hardly something I want to go on my bucket list, I simply enjoyed the writing of it, enjoyed the concept and reality of the platform.
Yet somehow, I found myself pushing off writing posts. I'd have a good day, plenty of time, and I'd tell myself I could simply do it later. Fortunately, I pushed past that point after just a little struggle, and at this point I'm pretty much posting whenever I can.
And now I've run into the problem again. There's something I've wanted to do for a while, something I've pushed off for a few years because the time never seemed right. I was going to push off writing about it until I'd accomplished at least a little, but right now I think I'll make the dedication, hopefully it will help me push forward.
After years of delays, about three weeks ago I finally decided to try my hand at writing a book/books. A large part of my thought process was what could go wrong? I wanted to do this, I was doing it for the joy of finally setting my thoughts and daydreams onto paper, or at least onto a computer. If I could finish it - all the better, if I could publish it – even more so. If I actually made a decent amount of money off of it, I would laugh at the fact that there are enough imbeciles in the world who actually want to read my words, and I'd consider quitting my day-job.
Well… if I still had one. I had regrettably ended my last one when I murdered my boss and framed it on my coworker, then sued the company for the trauma. If you're reading this Susan - Ha! All that favoritism from John doesn't count for much in maximum security prison, does it? If this ever makes it into a court of law, My account was hacked, I didn't actually write this or do it.
Anyways. At the time of my dedication I knew of my propensity towards procrastination – I've had to live with myself for my whole life, after all. So I made a dedication with that in mind – I told myself that I was going to write over a thousand words a day, provided I had the free time and access to a computer, something which doesn't always work out for me due to a rather busy schedule.
I made sure to add a couple of caveats into my dedication, mostly for my own good seeing as I'm doing this because I want to, not because of any desperate need – I would allow myself to read for an hour or two if I felt the need, even if that didn't allow me enough time to type. I wasn't going to go to bed late because of this especially because I don't get enough sleep as it is. I would also post on steemit if I had the time and the internet access instead of writing this – another thing I felt would be better for me overall, another thing which I do for my own perverse pleasure. I don't really know why it's perverse, but I'm sure that there's some explanation.
And I managed it for the first week or so, I got in a good 7000 or so words. And then… I was busy. For some reason my schedule ended up being busier than expected – it seems to happen to all of us. In fact, my schedule had already become too busy during that first week as well, I just didn't want to fall behind so soon, so I stayed up late to finish. And when my schedule hit me, I barely got anything done.
Was it my fault? … I think in part it was. If I'm being harsh on myself – yes, it was. If I'm being lenient – no, not really. If I were to be fair, however… - yes and no. I could have done more, but a lot was simply unavoidable. And so I fell behind.
And now I'm regretting it. I really wanted to do this, I really wanted to get somewhere. And so I'm asking you to help me with this, asking you to put that pressure on me that I can't put on myself. I'm going to be pretty busy for the next three days, so I'll do what I can and leave it at that. But after that… I expect my schedule to open up quite a bit for a few weeks, so I'll up the ante and try to write 10,000 words a week.
Perhaps I'll succeed, perhaps I'll fail. But at least I'll have tried.
-hyperbole out
all pictures from pixabay. The video's not mine (obviously, see TEDTalk symbol), and thanks to 
