I have been procrastinating.
I have been actually doing a pretty great job at it.
If only I hadn’t stopped. If I had held out for just a few more days it might have been one of the best procrastination’s I have pulled off. However, I was thwarted. Something (maybe it was my better demons) stepped in and put a stop to all the fun, and now I am actually completing the task.
Actually, this might be one of the most successful non-procrastination’s yet, which is probably a good thing.. I guess. The thing I may-have-but-did-not procrastinate on was the packing, moving, and consolidation of my current belongings in preparation for the big trip I am about to embark on. I have done this moving thing many times before (usually within 48 hours of the actual move because I am a pro procrastinator), but never has it been such a big deal. Mainly because it can’t be a big deal. I can only take so much with me, and I can only pack so much into the truck to take from my current place of residence to the place of storage. Making for an arduous task, something I might akin to playing Chess; a lot of thought going into the movement of a single object across a very small space.
I don’t really like Chess.
Being the person I am, a responsible young adult going on a slightly crazy (possibly irresponsible) trip, I have taken it on myself to complete this task now, a little less than two weeks in advance. That is a lot of non-procrastination right there.
This trip that I speak of, the one with the small load, is a trip across the United States on my motorcycle. A small 650 cc. About 300 lbs of Suzuki Savage that can carry me.. and very little else. I am starting to figure that out. It certainly won’t hold my record player and albums, or the small collection of my favorite books. My art supplies won’t fit. Not even my great collection of graphic band tees are going to be making it across country.
I know this.
I mean I am not shocked (the shock I expressed was mainly for comic effect.. for my own benefit at this point). What I am is tired. Tired of hauling boxes of albums and books across the state in my truck. Tired of hauling them up and down flights of stairs. Tired of the fact That I feel so attached to all those tees, and the few nice jeans I own that actually fit. Attachment that is leading me to have difficulty tossing them in the black garbage bag dedicated to the clothing meant for Goodwill. It tires me to know that my plan to escape actually involves forethought and planning. What? Who knew.
Like I said I have done this before. Two years ago I managed to move six times within about 12 months. However each time I purged myself a little more. Rid myself of the crap that makes a person feel like they need a place to belong just so they have a place to store the junk they’ve collected. Each time I allowed myself to feel like this free agent. A person who could just take off with this feeling of young, free, independence. I was only slightly fooled. This time I know for certain I am not that autonomous agent. I am relying on the kindness of the people around me too much this time for that to be the case. I suppose that’s why I am not procrastinating.
The milk of human kindness often makes one feel more energetic when it comes to getting stuff done. I mean one doesn’t really have any other option when asking for others help. No one wants to help someone who doesn’t help themselves. The milk of human kindness is great at inducing self-responsibility.
While all I really want to do is hop on Little Wing (oh, I am not sure I have formerly introduced you to my 650 Savage, excuse me. Little Wing, this is the reader. Reader this is my motorcycle.) and travel the states free and easy, I also want to make and keep friends along the way. I guess that’s growth right? I am not just running, I am actually taking time to do things the right way.
Like not procrastinating. That’s a step.