I'm No Procrastinator: Wait? What's That Over There?

I'm playing hooky from class today. Before you yell at me, it's for a good reason. Every 1st Wednesday of the month, I have an education committee meeting for a preservation organization in town and it starts at 5:30. In order for me to get there in time, I'd have to leave class at 5:00, which means that I'd sit through an entire lecture, but miss out on our class project (which is the only reason I really go to class anyway). Rather than making my way down to campus for a rehash of Environmental Policy and Planning (that I know like the back of my hand from work in the preservation world), I decided to stay home and write the papers that are due at the end of the term -- only a week away. I sent notes to my group mates this morning to ease my conscience for missing out on our discussion session.

I'm writing three memos on the recent plans adopted for the Northwest neighborhood (where Jesse and I live). At two double-spaced pages each, it shouldn't take very long -- I used to do this sort of thing in my sleep! However, I'm having a hard time cracking down and just doing it already. There are so many things going on that are keeping me distracted, like my parents visiting next week, the nice cool weather outside, our trip in less than a month (!), and my new iPod Touch (soon to be followed by a new laptop) flying from Sacramento as we speak. Also, I can't help but think about the fall term and what glorious class I will take next. Perhaps something in Public Administration? Who knows, maybe I'll become an astronaut or a world-class biographer of some previously obscure historical figure. The options are endless when there are papers to be written!

In addition to my self-inflicted interruptions, my husband has decided that he wants to be best buds for the afternoon, attaching himself to my hip. I'm not sure if it's out of boredom or some more primal instinct that makes him involuntarily ask questions and give unsolicited commentary on the (rather terrible) oatmeal cookies that were made earlier in the week. He's not trying to be a pain (and I am sort of sitting in his workspace), but even the little 20 second interruptions totally throw off my train of thought. I finally had to go to the bedroom, shut the door and demand not to be bothered under pain of death (or unless he accidentally catches fire and needs critical medical assistance).

I will write three papers today....I will write three papers today.....I will write three papers today....