My Procrastination Jottings

Half the stuff on this blog is a result of what I produced when I was actually trying to write something else.  Something more important and writerly.  Like, full sentences and stuff.  This happened again today while I undertook to confront the two pieces that remain half-written in my writer’s block queue (and there are still several more ideas in the queue that I haven’t even began).  That is, I ended up writing nonsensical gobbledygook while I was trying to write the real stuff.       

I currently have accumulated on my computer a huge file dating back to 2008 filled with my “Procrastination Jottings” of thoughts, sort-of-thoughts, and only-sometimes-complete sentences that I jot down before and while I’m trying to write something else.  The words flow more easily, I have always felt, if I have another Word document open where I can constantly toggle back and forth to tell my alter ego what I’m really thinking when I try to write.

After about 6 months of adding to this file instead of creating new ones while I’ve tried to start a blog, to start a freelance portfolio, to like, become “a writer” and all that, I’ve decided to simply extend my procrastination jottings onto my blog.  Meaning, whatever I end up actually writing when I sit down to write gets posted here on my blog, no matter what.  No censorship (in theory . . .), no heavy editing, no consideration of the horror, consternation, and contempt of my audience when they read what comes out of me.

The rationale for compulsory publication of my procrastination jottings is, if whatever I write gets posted no matter what, then eventually I’ll stop freezing up when I sit down to write what I intend to write.  Maybe I’ll stop constantly contemplating what my readers will be thinking when they read my garbage if I know everything will be posted and there’s no escape, so there’s no point in avoiding it.  Eventually I’ll stop fearing my audience.  Desensitization, if you will.

. . . Thing is, I am having a really, really hard time bringing myself to post my procrastination jottings.  Tonight’s jottings are too ridiculous, too meandering, too outlandish, too eccentric . . . too quintessentially me, and there is just no way I could share what I actually did write tonight.  The prospect of doing so is too mortifying, even for my anonymous blog with a following of 12.  So I’ve decided to delay posting it indefinitely, and I’m back to the same point where I started, with a bunch of unfinished writing projects and a big useless file with a bunch of very florid and fanciful thoughts, notes, and brain smatterings.

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4 thoughts on “My Procrastination Jottings

  1. Dude–my entire blog is a procrastination jotting. Its entire purpose is to give me a place to fuck around when I reallyreallyreally should be doing something else. My advice: Publish the jottings, because there’s probably something awesome and wonderful (or at least something that seems that way to someone else) and then you get to feel brilliant. Also–don’t get Twitter.

    Frankly, its 2 a.m. and I’ve got a story due for a workshop by noon. This will probably be the most words I have ever written in one sitting in my life, because I swore I would turn in THIS story, yet had it only half done (and I am lazy. Lazy lazy lazy). So you’re not the only one with a procrastination problem.

    • But I can’t publish it, I just can’t! I even tried waiting a few days to ease into the prospect of posting them, but the jottings only looked stupider and more outlandish than before. I used find myself using the “notes” section of Facebook to create blog posts of the frivolous, fucking off variety, but I drew so many followers who would comment on them offline that became overwhelmed and finally left Facebook. I have deep-seated publication issues.

      And thanks for sharing your procrastination story. It’s strangely comforting.

      • Procrastination stories are always comforting–I walked into my workshop and the grad assistant told us about how she’d been up until 7 finishing the story for *her* workshop. It was lovely.

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