It has been pointed out to me on several occasions, by several different people, in many different ways, that I don’t have my priorities straight. Now, most of the time this revelation doesn’t come in someone saying, “Hey, Sarah, you don’t have your priorities straight!” More often than not, it comes in a passing comment that is often (but not always) delivered without the intent of pointing out that the way I approach life seems to be different than the way of everyone else around me.
I tend to subscribe to the “Life’s Too Short” school of thinking, and thus I am a horrible procrastinator. “Life’s Too Short,” I tell myself, “to take up my time worrying about the laundry when there is wine to be savored and puppies who need to be entertained!” Or another favorite: “Life’s Too Short… to wash dishes when I could be… doing anything else!”
While my desire to surround myself with the little pleasures on an immediate basis seems like a good idea in the immediate time, it always comes out that my approach to life is… seriously flawed. Yep. Really screwed up. Because, it turns out, life is long enough that the ramifications of putting off the necessary to indulge in the desirable always come back to bite me in the ass.
And so, since tonight I have the night off from bowling (because, as we all know, Life’s Too Short not to bowl on Tuesdays), my task is to clean, scrub, and vacuum Janette’s room, and then lift, move, and generally torture my body into becoming a better one (aka work out). And now I realize, darnit, at least in the short term I am running out of time to get done the things I need to get done.
I think my approach needs to be modified into something like “Life’s Too Short to Procrastinate, Because I Will Always Find Time To Do The Stuff I Wanna Do, Whether The Stuff I Hafta Do Is Done Or Not.” It’s kind of a long motto, but it makes sense. After all, don’t we always manage to sneak into Starbucks when the craving is too intense to ignore, or watch “Friends” every now and again (it’s in reruns, like, 23 1/2 hours a day), or go out once in a while when we really shouldn’t? The “wannas” always find their way to me, so I guess I just need to put them in the “wanna file” until the “hafta pile” is empty.