Excuses, Excuses

Isn’t it interesting how easy it is for us to fall behind on things?  When I began this blog, I promised myself that I would write something for it every day.  At first, it was easy—every morning I would roll out of bed, boot up my computer while I brushed my teeth, and sit down and write whatever came to mind.  As long as it was part of my routine, part of my habit, I could do it easily.

It has been two and a half weeks since I wrote anything for this blog.  The previous three entries came at rough three-day intervals, and before that is a large gap between April 23^rd and May 7^th.  In the end, it’s guilt that brings me back to work. 

How has it gotten to this point?  It was an easy enough task.  Writing a blog post takes me thirty minutes at most, and on my best days it can take as few as ten, when I’m feeling particularly inspired or eloquent.  Even now, I don’t feel particularly resentful about having to write this.  So why have I put it off for so long?

I think the root of procrastination can be found in excuses.  We are very good at making excuses for ourselves.  I can clearly remember some of the ones that I’ve made in the past two and a half weeks.  “Oh, I wrote a very strong post last time—I can take some time off.”  “It’s so hard to work here—I don’t have the right kind of atmosphere.”  “Blog?  Oh, right…but I planned to read for a few hours tonight before I go to bed.”  “I don’t have many readers anyway.”  And suddenly it is June 7^th, and I’m wondering what kind of slacker I am.

Personally, I hate excuses.  I’m usually very strict with myself, refusing to give excuses to others.  If I've disappointed someone, then I deserve to feel bad.  And yet it seems I’m very good at accepting them from myself—I do it so easily that I hardly notice I’m doing it.  It just goes to show how quickly we can dismiss our own failings.

As faults go, this is a little thing.  I’m quite certain that most of the world has procrastinated on something, maybe on many somethings.  I do think that the hardest task to take on is the one you set yourself.  With no one but myself to be disappointed in me, I’m far more forgiving than I might otherwise be.  I hope that by writing this, my excuses will be more noticeable to my conscious mind, and maybe I will be more diligent in my writing, in spite of myself.