Post by pinkie on Sept 14, 2009 4:35:49 GMT -5
RR #1 procrastination
Why is it that you always wake up early on your day off? Every day, getting up as soon as the alarm goes, is a true battle, but Saturday mornings, exactly seven thirty, you open your eyes to either a bright new day, or now it is autumn: a dark new day.
Turning over doesn't help. Your happy thought doesn't help. A little trip to bathroom over cold tiles doesn't help. Before you know it, you are frustrated and sitting on your sofa, fingering through magazines, wishing you had a house elf bring you a cup of tea and a piece of well buttered toast.
They say the early bird catches the worm. In my case the early bird really just sits around. I go through my magazines, some poetry books and talk to my friends through the flu network. I watch things on my projector and listen to the wireless.
Before you know it, you have eaten half the pantry, you look outside and see the students coming back in from Quidditch games or practice and you know it is time for dinner and you haven't done anything productive.
After dinner you linger in hopes that someone will talk to you and often you stay behind for an after dinner drink, hoping for Albus to notice you. Correcting tests can be done tomorrow as can my laundry. My mother would scald me for procrastinating like this, but i don't care.
Saturday is for me.
Now what?! Seriously, my muse has fled and is probably off doing something naughty. I sometimes better think i join her.
Why is it that you always wake up early on your day off? Every day, getting up as soon as the alarm goes, is a true battle, but Saturday mornings, exactly seven thirty, you open your eyes to either a bright new day, or now it is autumn: a dark new day.
Turning over doesn't help. Your happy thought doesn't help. A little trip to bathroom over cold tiles doesn't help. Before you know it, you are frustrated and sitting on your sofa, fingering through magazines, wishing you had a house elf bring you a cup of tea and a piece of well buttered toast.
They say the early bird catches the worm. In my case the early bird really just sits around. I go through my magazines, some poetry books and talk to my friends through the flu network. I watch things on my projector and listen to the wireless.
Before you know it, you have eaten half the pantry, you look outside and see the students coming back in from Quidditch games or practice and you know it is time for dinner and you haven't done anything productive.
After dinner you linger in hopes that someone will talk to you and often you stay behind for an after dinner drink, hoping for Albus to notice you. Correcting tests can be done tomorrow as can my laundry. My mother would scald me for procrastinating like this, but i don't care.
Saturday is for me.
Now what?! Seriously, my muse has fled and is probably off doing something naughty. I sometimes better think i join her.
