Real Procrastination Requires Motivation

I guess it's only fitting that I should produce the first buzz to be displayed in the Procrastination Gallery. I commented on a buzz entitled, "Procrastination - Facts and Solutions," produced by @Aurorasa Sima. Basically, I told her that it was probably too late for me, having elevated it to an art form.  That sparked the imaginations of Aurosas and @Margaret Aranda, MD, Phd. The good doctor thought the visual of a "Procrastination Gallery" would be awesome and deserved a buzz of its own. Aurorasa excitedly agreed, "A buzz for Randy's gallery!"

Well, it's not going to be just a buzz, it's going to be a full-blown hive. Boy, I really need to get a life. Now, I'm the curator of an art gallery, featuring examples of extreme laziness -- if anybody can manage to complete one. If no one does, I won't be surprised.

My first work in progress, which relates to the riding mower pictured above, remains incomplete as of this writing. I hate doing lawn work. That's a motivation for procrastination. Is that even possible? I began to mow the yard more than a week ago. I was nearing completion, when I ran out of gas and the can in the garage was empty. I forgot to check it before I embarked on the dreaded chore. I'd obviously put off going to the gas station until it was too late. It's difficult to see from the photo, due to the passage of time, but that there was only one strip of grass left standing above the rest when the proverbial bottom fell out.

I could have gone straight to the gas station, filled my gas can, and returned to complete the mission. However, it was Sunday afternoon. That's when my good friend's bar features a band on the back deck, which overlooks the river. I love live music. And, as I said ,I hate lawn work. It was a no-brainer. Not to mention, she was expecting me. I couldn't disappoint her over a patch of grass. It was also hot and I was thirsty. I had no choice. You gotta love friends with benefits who own a bar.

After all, it was only the backyard, which is surrounded by trees and shrubs. It's basically out of sight. No one could see the abandoned mower from the street. It's a culdesac, actually. There's virtually no traffic. It's almost as if I'd planned it. I can look out the picture window in the kitchen, peer past the humming bird feeder, and gaze at my thirsty mower. My next door neighbor, who barely acknowledges my existence, has kept his mouth shut. He prefers to embarrass me by keeping his lawn looking like a well-manicured golf course. His wife creates a minefield of flower pots every year. Sorry, but I'm not impressed. I am a little embarrassed, but not that much.

I figured there's always tomorrow, which was Monday. I could grab some gas on my way home from the office. That didn't happen, either. You see, I just bought a new Ford Mustang convertible. It's white with a black top. I love it.There's no way I was going to put a smelly gas can in the trunk. I had a viable option. I kept my old Ford Taurus to plow my way through the ice and snow of winter. I live outside of Chicago. Needless to say, Mustang's don't perform well under those conditions. But, I didn't want to drive the Taurus while the weather was beautiful, convertible conditions only last a few months.

After that, there was my grandson's baseball practice on Tuesday and a game on Wednesday. Thursday was spent helping my friend move a 50" television. What a pain in the ass. I should have mowed. Friday was reserved for happy hour and a nice fish dinner at the bar, followed by a few cocktails with the unsavory characters I refer to as friends. It's my own version of "Cheers," where everybody knows my name. When the bartenders see me come through the door, there's a Jameson Irish whiskey on the bar by the time I straddle the stool. Neither of my two ex-wives ever mastered that feat. Perhaps, that's why they're no longer around. You have to have priorities and they did commit to for better or worse.

Saturday was another little league baseball game. I know, a game doesn't last all day, but it was extremely hot and humid. In fact, it was the hottest day of the year, so I went back to the bar. It was bound to cool off in the evening. I'd solve that gas shortage and complete the mission once it cooled off. Well, before I knew it, it was dark out. As you can see, the mower has headlights, but I determined that driving under the influence and at night was a bad idea. There are a trees to consider.

Sunday, which was Father's Day, started the process all over, again. I won't get into the events of the holiday. I'm drafting a buzz that will delve into that near-death experience. For my daughter, not me. It involves an armed robbery. Nasty stuff. Lawn mowing didn't even register that day or the days since. So, the mower remains stationary. Today's Friday, you know what that means. Don't worry. I'll get to it this weekend. Or, it could just be rinse and repeat.