I am a world-class procrastinator, an expert in “gunnadoo” and nowhere near as proficient with “git ‘er done” as I should be. Partly it’s simply that I get lost in something and the next thing I know several hours have vanished and some Very Important Thing I should have done hasn’t been done.
The rest is that if I don’t want to do something, I’m very good at finding – and justifying – other things to do instead. Although I admit I’ve never gone quite so far as to try to vacuum one of the cats. I likely wouldn’t survive the experience.
Which of course is why I usually end up typing up my posts at some point Wednesday night when I’m half asleep (unless I space them completely), sometimes fending off curious felines while I’m at it.
And cursing WordPress because I can no longer find the old editor and the new one hates me. I’ll get half a dozen words typed into the blasted thing and then it starts swearing at me and claiming I don’t have permission to edit. I suspect there’s a caching issue involved, but I do enough tracking down and fixing things with flaky websites at work to want to do the same thing on my own time.
I’d ask if it was too much to want things to just work but I know far too well that the answer to that question is “yes”. I think it’s one of those never-stated Rules of the Universe, along with “nothing is ever easy”, “nothing works the way you expect it to”, and “power corrupts” (Why am I thinking about the corrupting effect of electricity? Honestly. Back before there was electricity and the Internets and massively connected everything it was a lot easier for little tyrants to set up their bailiwicks and play at being dictator for as long as they could make it last. Electric power and the connections it makes possible helped to reduce corruption, sort of. Or at least, helped to make it easier to communicate that corruption is happening, which in turn makes it easier to get rid of. If people want to. And if I keep on this tangent I’m going to drive myself insane.)
Anyway, ritual cursing of WordPress aside, I should probably invest in goats blood… ahem… try to remember to write posts over the weekend and schedule them well in advance. I’d invite folks to take bets on this except that I know full well that next Wednesday, I’ll be typing when I should be going to bed – if I don’t space the whole thing again because the blasted interface brings me so much Do Not Want I’m fighting the urge to break into LOLCat.
Oh, and have an old (and very cute) picture of a very young Buttercup with the much missed Bugger Cat (they’re sharing kitty beds) and a nearby Baby Cat.