Procrastination

(True story of what's happening right now.)

Blank.

That was what she saw in front of her. A blank screen, a list of responsibilities and a wide internet with as much procrastination as one could want. She stared at the screen. Responsibilities. Internet. Responsibilities. Internet.

I deserve a break, she told herself. I've done maths homework for the last hour. Then she looks at the clock and almost dies of horror. There's no time - no time to waste, at least. She could finish everything on that list in half an hour. Or, she could wait until tomorrow, and have fun for half an hour.

Or, she could do neither, and just shut the computer down for the rest of the night.

...

Nah.

She looked back at the list, and tried writing down a few words. She got as far as the first word - no, not even that far. She merely switched to the tab which had the information she wanted, then stared at it. I'm wasting time, she told herself. Yes, she knew that, she wasn't stupid. She wanted to do work. She had no excuse, even when she tried to tell herself that her muse wasn't here. Because if her muse wasn't here, she wouldn't be able to be writing this right now.

She was just a procrastinator.

One story, she told herself, to warm up my muse. Well, one story's gone. She had run out of things to say. She wanted to keep writing, if only to delay the inevitable for a little while longer.

She pauses, now, and stares at the screen. She breathes in and out and wonders what else she could possibly write. She wonders whether she should go on youtube. Or twitter. Facebook seems good right about now. She flicks to the twitter tab. She begins typing things such as 'My muse is gone' or 'I'm a procrastinator', but she's trying to fight the procrastination so turns back to her blogspot tab without doing anything.

One song, she promises herself. One song, and then to work.