It's Summertime Somewhere

I'm pretty focused about most things. However, when it comes to those items on the list that I don't like to do, I can find at least six ways to Sunday not to get them done. Take paying bills for example. It doesn't take me very long to actually do the task, because I'm a writer and I have no money, so consequently there's really not many bills that need to be paid. Do I get some kind of thrill knowing my creditors are smiling to themselves while placing gold stars at the top left corner of my account, just because I paid them on time? Uh? No. Do I get off watching my checking account go into the negative integers? Hmm...let me think about this one...No.

Here's something to ponder: Do you think procrastination is somehow linked to denial? I'm convinced they're one in the same. Maybe I should write the folks at Wikipedia and let them know of my theory.

A few weeks ago, still within the fine Scorpio month of November, the temperature reached an all time high of about 60 heavenly degrees. The sun was shining and the sky was blue-blue. Now for some people this meant, "Hey, great, I don't have to wear a coat today." For me, it was bathing suit weather, baby. Stupidly, I put on my multi-colored halter top bikini and matching bottoms and sat outside on my patio in the cadillac chair. My neighbors already think I'm a bit odd, for various reasons. So sun bathing in the midwest in November only further solidifies their thoughts of me (koo-koo). I lasted for just about 30 minutes, tops. Why? Because it was too fucking cold and I had bills to pay, of course.

I know in the scheme of world events, lamenting about weather is really rather shallow and pointless on my part, but damnit, I'm going to bitch about it anyway! It's fucking cold here. It already started to snow and much to my protest, I reluctantly put the last pair of black, .99 flip-flops in their storage container in the basement this week. "Buh-buh guys, sorry. I have to make room for no-skid boots, slippers and Uggs (the pulse quickens). No worries though, I'll see you in about hmm...six months. I'll miss you! I love you!"

I can pull the denial/procrastination card all I want, but I knew what was coming. I knew the weather was getting colder. I could feel that cold snap in the air. I saw the leaves changing colors and then absentmindedly began depositing themselves everywhere. Deep down inside, I knew I needed to make room for loooong pants, sweaters, coats, hats, scarves, gloves and other necessary cold weather accoutrements. Deny, deny, deny - I just kept reaching for shorts and tank-tops; hoping and praying the earth would retrograde and send us back into summertime or send me to Barcelona, Spain (insert more denial/procrastination).

So, each day before setting the alarm (I live in the hood) and leaving my house for the day, I'm no longer slipping "take me to bed" red painted toe nails into flip-flops, or effortlessly pulling on comfortable, shorts and easy, breazy tanks... but instead, I cover my feet in socks and then boots, pulling on a coat, hat and gloves, as I schlepp my way to and from my final destination.

Isn't denial/procrastination a whole lot easier than cold weather gear?

Dreaming of paying bills in Barcelona, Spain (view from Parc Guell above) where the temperature is 70 degrees and perfect -

Neve