Most of my day was spent thinking about the things I should be doing. When I wasn’t procrastinating I engaged in displacement activity or eating. Julia suggested that I could combine two of my talents and write a book about procrastination. Or eating. And suggested, a trifle unkindly, that if I could combine eating and procrastinating it might be better for my waistline.
I told her I would consider the book, and that I would spend the rest of the day in research.
After lunch she went to have her hair done and when she returned, bearing Bakewell tarts, I forgot to tell her how nice her hair looked. In my defence I would say that two hours on eBay followed by tea and Bakewell tarts had dulled my normally tip-top husbandly instincts.
After that I did some more research. When you are researching procrastination, as I pointed out when asked if I had gone to sleep, it is often difficult to draw a line between research and torpor. Generally, if I have a notebook out, it is research.
Last night, when preparing myself for a serious assault on the world of poetry magazines, I found I had submitted the same poem to two different editors. It is the second time I have done this, despite my best efforts at organising myself. Fortunately they both rejected it, so it wasn’t a problem. I really must do better.
As soon as I finish here I am going to start recycling the rejected submissions from the last month. They have many good points, which I will try to accentuate, whilst removing the bad bits. This is the easy bit, after that I actually have to start working.