A Procrasti Nation of Writers

I had taken a long break from Just Humor Me for various and sundry reasons, but not because there was nothing to make fun of. I worked on a certain political campaign (not mentioning any names, but he’s still the L of the F W), went to Russia, had a class reunion, stayed in a haunted hotel, OD’d on colonial garb at Williamsburg, attended the Democratic National Convention, spent a lot of time in airports with a variety-pack of Americans, and had some antics in my own car. So there was no shortage of ways to poke fun at myself for your pleasure. I could stay holed up here in my study without Internet and free of shenanigans for an entire month and still have things to blog about.

But now for the business of sitting down and actually writing stuff down. When I was on a roll, I could spit out a blog post  while getting a high score on Bejeweled on a split screen. Now that I’m out of practice, my adult ADD is flexing its muscles. To avoid writing, I’ve researched the new bumper-sticker stickiness and why it won’t ruin your car anymore; shopped online for a mother-of-the-bride dress because a couple of people I know have kids getting married and I thought it would be neat to pretend I’m them; learned several vodka-related Russian phrases; designed a color-coordinated weight-loss chart; reorganized my iTunes, underwear drawer and online banking; and watched several hundred YouTube videos of babies laughing. I would pursue a master’s degree in psychology at University of Phoenix just to avoid writing the blog post about my summer vacation. In fact I could probably teach a graduate-level course on Procrastination in Today’s Digital World.

Most of all, I have to get back to writing this blog because without it I don’t have anything to say when asked, “What do you do?” I forgot to come up with something before my class reunion a couple months ago and ended up stammering and mumbling something about the foreign service. At best, I can say, “I used to write a blog . . . “ as if I’m now spending hours a day recovering from it or basking in the glory. Yeah, no.

I’ll write more about my class reunion and how it gets easier to be unemployed, lacking ambition, and nothing more than a former blogger, the further from your cap and gown you get - especially if you have grandchildren, which I also don’t have. At least it’s another topic for poking fun at myself. 
And I’m back in business.

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