I procrastinate. A lot. Usually it works out for the best. Everyone wants instant results. If I didn’t answer my email or text within five minutes, my friends would start calling my family and tracking me down. I have now trained them better. If it’s an emergency, call me. My mother will anyway; she knows of no other way to use a phone. People who text or email me will wait for a response. It’s not that I’m ignoring them, I just have something more interesting to do.
And the response you get when you say you have something more interesting to do separates your true friends from your acquaintances. Your friends will nod, know they are important to you, and ask what you were doing that was so interesting. So will your acquaintances, without the nod, and with added sarcasm. Even my son knows he is not the center of my universe at all times. Of course, I should be the center of his. But his wife and children would disagree.
I schedule time to be with me friends and family. Sometimes we schedule days or weeks in advance because of everyone’s other commitments, but schedule we do. I want my friends in my life. My acquaintances, I procrastinate. What seemed so important at the time of the text takes care of itself in the course of time. Other things become priorities, outside forces intervene and solve the issue or make it less important. I don’t remember what stuff I bought, but I remember where and when I spent time with my friends and family.
My writing awaits me. I try to do at least two crappy pages a day, to paraphrase some more famous writer. And I need to call my mother. Before I do either, I procrastinate. I think about what I will write or say, think some other time will be better, but do it anyway. The advantage of procrastination is that you get to do the things that you want to do.