And so it begins.

As I sit on my bed and look around the disarray that is my room, I can’t help but wonder how such a mess happens. Seeing as I only stay here for a few hours at a time, it doesn’t seem plausible that the strewn about items are getting there by me.

And then it hits me.

Perhaps I am unconsciously making the mess to have something to distract me from my future writing. After all, how could I possibly get any work done when there are so many things in the wrong place?

I would blame it on OCD, but the truth is, it’s simple procrastination.

Which has now been made quite clear by the fact that this is being posted a mere hours before class.

I guess admitting it would be the first step towards fixing it. But then again, it’s been happening for years, which leads me to believe that it can’t be fixed. Or just won’t.

Now that I’m thinking about it, maybe all of my weird tendencies are my way of procrastinating.

Take, for example, the car locking obsession:
In order to leave my car, it is essential for me to lock it three times. It’s not that I don’t have faith that it is, in fact, locked after one hit of the button. It may just be my way of wasting a second of time after each departure, seconds that could be spent doing far more productive things.

So now I have a new goal.

Instead of wasting time away doing ridiculous things like questioning my car security, I will waste time here.

At least that way, writing will happen. It may not be on the headlines that are due the next day, but at least it will happen.