…is my middle name.
Seriously, if there were an award for the most procrastinating procrastinator, it would assuredly go to me. There would be a parade. Fanfare. Tickertape. I would get a medal. It would be hobbled together MacGyver style from a sink tap, a paddle pop stick & some tape, because the award would come from The Royal Society of Procrastinators, and they wouldn’t have been very prepared for the ceremony.
…I digress… (another of my great, yet useless, skills…)
I have been ever so slowly trying to clean out the spare room over the last few days – also known as bubba#2’s nursery to be – but things are not progressing as they should be. There are so many distractions… boxes to be opened, books to be looked at, things to be sorted… it reminds me very much of how I used to spend days to weeks “cleaning” my room when it was demanded of me by my poor Mother. I would walk in, all gung-ho, begin by piling everything on top of my bed (for easier ‘sorting out’ purposes), finding all sorts of interesting & time-consuming things along the way. “Oh, that’s where that went!”, “I forgot I even had this!”, etc, and then sometime after 1am I would look at the mountain of crap on my bed, shrug, and sleep on the floor. Ah. Memories.
That is very similar to what is going on in the spare room/nursery/junk haven right now. Yesterday I found a bunch of sketch books & spent ages flicking through them, they’re not even from that long ago really, but still, it’s funny what you forget doing/drawing, & what you remember. I thought I’d share a couple of pics that I don’t think I’ve blogged before, so that my time procrastinating wasn’t entirely wasted.