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Victim Of Time by Carol Wells

I refuse to admit being a procrastinator. I also do not feel 'disorganized' or 'scatterbrained' as accurate descriptive terms either. But ...

Some of you may be able to relate to my confession. It is not my fault as I am, in a peculiar way, a victim. I happen to be in the right place at the wrong time. Let me explain, although I will skip the side details that may or may not help play a role.

When I wake up that is my cue to enjoy a fresh cup of coffee but first, I need to rinse out the coffee pot from the previous day's residue. I place other dirty dishes into the sink and turn on the hot water but the coffee pot remains my first priority.

I measure out the coffee grounds and water then flip the switch for the coffee maker to perform magic but, while waiting, my son staggers out to proclaim he, too, wants something to drink - a glass of juice satisfies him.

Soon the freshly brewed coffee's scent fills the kitchen, having my taste buds tingle in anticipation! I glance at the sudsy dishwater but decide to savor my first cup of coffee for the day.

First cup leads to a second and a third. Each time I refill my cup I look at the items soaking in the sink but I am not ignoring them as I dip a finger into the water and determine I still have a few more minutes to enjoy my coffee before the hot water cools off too much.

I turn on the computer to surf through some chat groups while sipping on my cup of coffee. I share a posting or two during this activity and another cup of coffee is required for a debate or long thread of discussion. I am nearly done with my hobby but, by now, my son is starting to want lunch.

I go back out to the kitchen to fix him a sandwich and a glass of milk while taking advantage of the opportunity to fill my cup once more. I look at the items in the sink and notice the water has cooled down some but that sandwich looked yummy and I decide I will fix myself one to enjoy with my fourth, or fifth, cup of coffee.

While eating the sandwich, I remind myself that I have not yet decided on the dinner menu. I set my now empty cup in the sink before looking in the freezer. Chicken ... pork ... or beef. Hmmm, major decision. I decide to consult my husband but this means I have to log back onto the Internet to send him a text message.

All this checking on the dishwater's temperature status developed into a desire to soak in hot water myself. I go into the bathroom and pour a tub of water but first, as like with the dishwater, I have to wait for it to cool down before getting in to relax.

While waiting and still logged into the Internet while waiting for my husband's response, I refill my coffee cup then surf back through the groups to see if any new posts are shared then check my e-mail accounts. My husband responds that beef would be fine so I set out the meat to thaw. I know by now the sink's water is cool enough for my hands but I do not want to waste the chance to soak in the tub for a few minutes while my son contently watches Jay-Jay or Barney on PBS.

I emerge from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around me and go to the kitchen. One glance at the sink is enough of a reminder that I still have to do the dishes but wearing only a towel while doing housework is not my concept of a housewifely image; I need to get dressed.

While dressing my son misconstrues this to mean we are going to go bye-bye. I do not know why other than optimistic thinking on his part that had me spending 20 minutes redirecting his attention off the 'going bye-bye' thought. Would been less but he spent almost half of that time going through the apartment calling out for his Dad, who he knows has the car.

My son is finally convinced that Daddy is still not home. By now, the dishwater in the sink is too cold for washing. As the water drains, I look at the clock but decide that I may as well wash the items, in the sink, later on when I wash the supper dishes.

It is not my fault. All those darn buts interfere with my plans! But this explains why the dishes never seem to be done. Laundry . . . well, that is a completely different story!

Humorous Book Recommendations:             [ view all ]
Humor for a Woman's Heart 2: Stories, Quips, and Quotes to Lift the Heart
[Shari MacDonald, Editor; 230 pages]
Shari has compiled a second collection of humorous stories, quips, and quotes for women of all ages to enjoy ... can you relate?

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Was it for this I uttered prayers,
And sobbed and cursed and kicked the stairs;
That now, domestic as a plate,
I should retire at half-past eight?
-- Edna St. Vincent Millay A Few Figs from Thistles [1920] "Grown-Up"

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A perfect method for adding drama to life is to wait until the deadline looms large.
-- Alyce P. Cornyn-Selby Procrastinator's Success Kit

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They said Procrastination
was the source of all my sorrow
I don't know what that big word means
...I'll look it up tomorrow!
-- Ibid.