I am a grade A, super powerful, uber, mondo, mucho Procrastinator. That's right. Capital P. It's that bad.
This is one of the things I like least about myself. No, this isn't a "beat up on Maegan" post, but it is an honest one.
I don't procrastinate on things like feeding the children, or changing diapers, or letting the animals outside or brushing my teeth, but when it comes to getting to where I want to be in life, ultimately being a writer and hopefully making some damn money doing it (not for the fortune of it, but hopefully for the ability to pay a bill or two of it), I keep putting it off. I'm not 100% sure why, but it's got to stop. Because it pisses me off, because it makes me feel lazy, because it makes me feel like it'd just be easier to go back to working in corporate (which makes me feel stabby), because my husband needs to be able to work less, because the kids are getting older, and because I'm generally a focused, motivated person. That is perhaps the most important reason.
It's so easy to get distracted when you're home all day with kids. There's always a tummy to fill, a butt to wipe, a ride to give, an owie to kiss, a load of laundry to do, a meal to cook, a face to wash, a dishwasher to load. And those are all important things.
But over the years (5 to be exact), I've learned that all that stuff is not enough to make me happy (and quite honestly, if it was, I would be afraid of myself). And all that stuff is ALWAYS going to be there. What's the saying? Something like "Cleaning up after kids is like shoveling during a blizzard." But I don't have any idea how long I'll have these ideas in my head. And if you don't do anything with them, they can disappear. And that makes me sad. I don't want my ideas to disappear because I'm too "busy" to do something with them.
November is National Novel Writing Month. I don't know who decided this, but I know at least one person participating this year.