Procrastination, priorities and motivation (to the cadence of wampeters foma and granfaloons)

A Wampeter is an object around which the lives of many otherwise unrelated people may revolve. Facebook or any social network might be a case in point.

"Foma" are harmless untruths, intended to comfort simple souls. “There’s light at the end of the tunnel”

A "granfalloon" is a proud and meaningless association of human beings.

Face book, I guess is an example

That’s a damned good title for Vonnegut Jnr’s book.

Quite why book titles would be running through my head as I wake and check the time, several times after 1am, is unclear. Why those thoughts should be shot through with restructured legal agreements and images of discussing a business plan with a uni professor is more obvious but no more reassuring.

I have work undone.

Procrastination, like masturbation, seems like a good idea at the time. But in the end, I am only fucking myself. So I roll out of bed into the cold at 3:30am. Fill and fire up the kettle en route to light incense in the study.

Coffee has become a meditation. Warming plunger and favourite cup, heating the milk just so, filtered water allowed to rest for 20 seconds before splashing over exotic crushed beans releases the scent and my synapses start to twitch. The first sip a judgement. Hmmm some nicotine. Now I am ready to face my keyboard.

And so I blog. Revised forecast, business plan and partnership agreements chitter softly in the background. Supporting one another in their judgment of this selfish indulgence. Screw em. If procrastination be the food of sloth, play on.

A friend lost his son last week, not being careless, the child died a few hours after birth. I was so moved by his response. He shared about the outpouring of love from friends and fellows. He was not unprepared for the loss and believed that the love he had for his firstborn son would somehow fill the gap. That did not happen and he was overwhelmed by the grief of the loss. In the depth of that feeling he found a message. The guy is a recovering smack addict. A no-hoper who has, by grace, been clean for ten years in the program which saved his life, and mine. He shared this: “Recovery has taught me how to be a man i never thought i could be. Because of the steps i am able to be strong for my partner when she needs me to be, to be there for my son when he needs me, to ask for help and receive love when i need it.”

… taught me to receive love when I need it. There’s a statement of self worth without arrogance. I like that.

I have been meaning to write that for a while. Procrastination has not been the problem. Priorities, the little suckers. I have been wrapped up in satisfying others needs for a while. That and keeping my lily white ass covered ‘cos I am not keen on the static if I do not maintain my diligence. I’m fifty years old and I still do not like getting into trouble. I will go to some really pussy level lengths to avoid it. Like 3:30 am starts to my day.

So this is my reward this morning. A little procrastinatory prose.

Gotta stop that goddamn chittering. I am ashamed that it is going to be the forecast which gets cut from the herd, the benefit of this prize, this motivational interlude. That is not the priority … it’s just the piece of work which will keep me out of trouble.