Complex Numbers

Revisited: "Procrastination"

Today's spin of the roulette wheel (which is actually redundant, as roulette is probably translated as little wheel, so that would make it a little wheel wheel) brought me all the way back to January of 2007, not long after I started this blog. And it demonstrates why I've never really gotten anywhere with my writing: "Procrastination" 

I've been kicking myself for procrastination for far longer than that, though, but have never managed to stop actually procrastinating. As I've finally recognized it as a core feature of my personality, I've now given up trying to change.

Or, I don't know. I keep meaning to. Maybe next week.

As for the entry itself, it begins with what's now an Invalid Item link. What used to be there was a Daily Writing Challenge, which was an activity I found useful in prodding me to complete daily writing exercises. As I recall, it started out with just a few words, and gradually worked up to 2000. Kind of like that guy who lifted a calf every day. The calf kept growing, but he didn't notice because he got stronger. Until, one day, he's walking around with a full-grown ox on his shoulders.

Left out of that story was how the ox might have felt about being used that way, but I imagine it's better than being yoked to a plow.

Oh, yeah, Milo of Croton   was the dude's name. I think he was a real person, but the ox thing was almost certainly mythological.

From the entry:

I'm sitting here procrastinating. I know once I get into the writing, it'll go fairly smoothly. Still, I'm putting it off like I always do with stuff. I had hoped I would learn better by now.

Nope, Younger Me: you never do learn better. You just learn to live with it.

Oh, and then there's the Fiction Writing class I signed up for. It begins Monday, and runs for like 9 weeks, once a week.

I vaguely remember that class. It was a continuing education thing at the university. I remember they sneered at me for writing science fiction. Snooty lit-snob poseurs.

Okay. Enough with the procrastination. Time to write.

Well, maybe some dinner first...

Anyone else writes that, I assume they're joking. I was not. That is truly how my mind works. Or, well... doesn't.