I go all gung-ho on productivity, finishing French workbook pages in record time and memorizing choir music like nobody's business. I reward myself with banana bread in my RA's room. AND THEN. Instead of being a responsible person and writing a little two-page letter for a class tomorrow, I decide to play with wrapping paper. Because it's custom to wrap our doors in it. But I can't just be satisfied with a ten-minute wrapping job. No no, I have to quilt the wrapping paper first because one kind just isn't enough. So I count squares on the back of the stuff and cut here and tape there, knowing full well that I have a little bitty paper to write. Silly business. Tell me why I do all this. (Note that I did use a wee bit of self control, making myself stop the insanity at 9:40 if I hadn't finished, which I haven't.)
And then to make it all better, instead of beginning immediately on the assignment, I decide to blog about how much time I spent being crafty. It's all your fault, you readers. (See how I did that there, pinning the blame on you guys?)
And the best part? If I had to make a prediction, I'd say that I will most likely bang out the letter in a half hour (fingers and toes crossed) before staying up entirely too late to complete the wrapping job. At which point I will add a photo to this post. (Update 11:29 p.m.: door complete, photo added.)
|Interior designers, watch out. I'm coming.|
Some days, I swear I should be a four-year-old, albeit a very precise and exacting four-year-old.