A short story - "Procrastination"

Procrastination.
by Alvaro

I have to write a piece on ...

Listening to a Tricky album I have not heard before. This is really good. It’s like the old Tricky, moody, dark, but somehow less angry.

OK, I want to write a piece on procrastination.

The green cursor taunts me. Green block just blinking. Each time it appears and disappears it is asking, “and then?”

So what is procrastination? Can I get a definition? Oxford, where are you? I will reach out... call out...

The net is slow. Oxford, why won’t you answer? It’s English, you can’t possibly be THAT busy....

Looking at Paddy’s pictures from England. Pictures of an Abby reveal an almost fractal look to its edges when looked at upwards from the street. This Abby designed by the firm of Mandelbrot-Julia and associates.

Procrastination. Right. Where’s that definition?

Pictures inside the Abby reveal chairs with large red leather cushions hanging on the back of the chair in front of you. The cushions are large and plump. Like punching bags. Is this how we wrestle with our demons here? Or do we just train to do so? A kind of Faith-Jit-Su that will help us fight the good fight.

The definition.

Should I be doing this right now? I feel like I’m a pachenko ball being pulled towards my goal by gravity, yet impeded by tangential thoughts, interrupting my journey. Does distraction play into procrastination? Is it a cause of just an accomplice? Am I just too distracted?

The definition. Right. The definition.

If I can ALT TAB past the photos to the browser I should be OK. And if not...

People in holiday pictures look either really happy or really stern. Why is that? Is that the difference between being connected and disconnected from your life back home? The line between simply being and being reflexive?

In contrast, pictures of sheep in the English country side are intriguing. The sheep either look at the camera as if to pose, or ignore the photographer altogether. Is that their happy versus stern? Then again, they are not holiday, so maybe it’s different.

The definition. Right. The Definition.

When did my browser close? Did it sense I was not coming back for the definition? Is it part of this nefarious plan to prevent from the definition? I’ll have to launch it again, and wait...

... launching...

... no harm in looking at more pictures then.

Do we standardize our looks for pictures? Why can’t our expressions be as diverse in pictures as they are in real life? Would home movies be different? We all don a mask of sorts for pictures. The context of the snapshot determines the mask we choose from the picture mask cupboard. Hmmm.... holiday... Stern or happy? Back at home, party... extreme smile with lots of teeth and gums, gregarious laughter, or intense ambivalent engagement?

The browser should have launched by now. I have a lot of RAM in this thing. Of course it has launched. I could have printed Romeo and Juliet by now.

The definition. Right. The definition.

OK. Finally. Procrastination. ORIGIN Latin procrastinare ‘defer till the morning’.

But wait. It IS morning. So maybe that’s it. Maybe I’m doing this one morning too early. But then I’d never get it done. Like those bar signs that say “Free beer tomorrow”. Tomorrow is always a day away from today. I wonder what Webster has to say about this.

Will I be able to ALT TAB past the pictures? I feel like I’m twelve, trying to sneak past my parent’s room late at night on my way to the basement, hoping to watch some really late night television.

Maybe the photo program won’t notice. Maybe it will be too caught up in its own magnificence. Yes, that’s it. “Look at me. Red eye? No problem. I’ll fix that focus and exposure for you. Crooked picture? Don’t worry about it. I am the director of the snapshots of your life. Just go out and capture what you want and we’ll fix it in post. I can do that. I am magnificent.”

It’s distracted. Yes, I think I can sneak past.

Another photo of an Abby. It has a television antenna centered within the square walls of its spire tower. What do they watch in there? Has Coronation Street influenced the ...

Phone is ringing. It’s my mother. Do I answer it? No. I can’t talk now. I’m very busy writing this piece. Though I do wonder what she wanted.

Maybe I should call.

She left a message. Very clever, she just says that she has something to ask me about. A mystery box left on the table, enticing me to explore the mysteries within. Will I open it?

Calling....

It was just some gossip. Fooled!

We chat for a bit. Catch up on current events. Then her clients show up to see a house. Aha! You had some time to kill. Now I know your ruse. But I fell for it.

Crafty Mother. Very crafty.

Eggs! Paddy has made me eggs. The universe conspires against me to get this definition. What is that about? Is there something I am not supposed to know about? Will I uncover some unknowable secret if I get to this definition? Will I pull back the curtain only to realize that the great and powerful OZ is just a little man on a step stool pushing buttons and fervently turning wheels and pushing levers?

Maybe I need to ALT TAB more quietly past my photographic gatekeeper. Webster, will you help? I must have that definition! Here I go... alt... tab..

Oh look, a cobblestone street. Potholes on cobblestone streets MUST be simpler to fix. All you need is a few bricks, and some stone dust and dirt or sand. What would a whole cobblestone city look like or feel like? No skateboarding I bet. Unless it became the impetus for monster tires on planks of wood. Kids moving about as if they were strange action statues being paraded about on wooden trays. The art comes to YOU in this scene, offering up a temporary repose from your busy day. No need to procrastinate the experiencing of art anymore. It will come to you in quick manageable doses.

Aha! Webster is on my side. My linguistic Ally in my definitive quest. A good squire, providing me with exactly what I need as I embark on my journey. A definition worthy of reflexive contemplation.

Procrastination. Etymology: Latin procrastinatus, past participle of procrastinare, from pro- forward + crastinus of tomorrow, from cras tomorrow. Date: 1588.

So did people not procrastinate before that? Or did they not yet have a name for that condition? Like A.D.D. in the 50’s. Surely people were wilfully distracted then, they just didn’t know what to call it yet. At least now we can externalize the condition. “Don’t blame me. There’s a name for this now. So it’s no longer my fault.”

Does a dog have a name before we give it one such as “killer” or “peaches” or just plain “Bob”? What would chickens call themselves? Is simply “being” a condition? Distraction seemingly is.

Oh look, procrastinate can be a transitive or intransitive verb. Is that why your are so good at what you do, you wily word of the English language?

Transitive verb : to put off intentionally and habitually. So you are not just a state, but also a way of life? Dodgy. Very dodgy indeed.

Intransitive verb : to put off intentionally the doing of something that should be done.

This is more like it. When you are intransitive I can take you or leave you any time I want.

When you are intransitive you are benign.

When you are transitive you are determined to subscribe me to a way of life in which tomorrow never comes for the things I must do today.

Intransitive procrastination, I choose you. I chose you without knowing, and lapped at the transitive shores of your existence. But now I turn back. I turn back to the rest of my day, for there are other things to be done.

But despair not. You are now part of my arsenal, and I know I can call upon you at will.

You. My intransitive instrument of postponement.