Oh sweet Beyonce Giselle Knowles-Carter, life has been nuts lately.
It’s time for a bullet point post. Because everyone knows that chaos is best conveyed in bullet points, obvs.
I have many strengths, but being on-trend is not one of them.
My younger sister, Hilary, is the exact opposite. The timeline of her adopting a trend compared to me catching on to it looks like this:
It’s a studied, thoughtful, ridiculous process, but it’s my process and I’m so firmly entrenched in it that I don’t even bother trying to change it anymore.
Olive is turning four soon, and I’m busily planning an awesome puppy party for her. I’ll definitely do a post on the party later, for now all you need to know is that since our place is small, I’m keeping things pretty simple – just close family and a few friends.
Originally, I wasn’t going to invite anyone from her preschool because there’s like fourteen kids in her class and I’m not sure about the etiquette around inviting only a handful of them… Is that a dick move? I feel like it’s terrible if a group of them are talking about her party while others didn’t get to go and might feel left out… Experienced moms, please tell me how you do this!
Anyway, there’s one little boy in her class who Olive absolutely adores, and she really wanted to invite him so I figured, why not? It seemed less dickish somehow if there was just one kid invited. (Is it? Or is it worse? Pls help.)
Anyway, today I talked to his mom after school and got her number to send her the invitation.
This is what happened next. (Names changed and info redacted for obvious reasons.)
We are dog-sitting an incredible little guy called Murphy for a few days. He’s such a sweetheart and Olive has been in absolute heaven (Squash Baby? Fishy Black? These are pets of the past. They’re dead to her now) and I’ve been loving it too. It’s been really nice to have a dog around again, aaaand I will admit that having a fluffy little guy who’s maybe twenty pounds with zero drool or shedding is a far different experience than I had with big Gus (bless his giant heart).
So far we’ve been taking full advantage of our temporary dog ownership status – yesterday we took Murphy on a walk to the coffee shop in the morning and a big romp around the dog park in the afternoon. Today I needed a few things from the grocery store so we decided to walk there and bring him along, too.
Lately, I have been taking procrastination from a low-level hobby to a goddamn art form. I’m doing a few editing projects and because they are for clients, they get done on time and they get done well. Score! BUT, the projects I’m working on for myself – pitching articles, writing articles for submission, fiddling around with a second book – these have no deadline, no external accountability, no structure.
So, the procrastination. It has grown and taken over my life. Someone actually needs to give me some sort of trophy for this shit (and if you do, I swear I’ll get around to picking it up and thanking you for it. Eventually. Tomorrow maybe? Early next week for sure.)
The first step to solving a problem is to identify it. Which for me, sounded something like this:
Damn, Madeleine. You are developing a real son-of-a-bitch of a procrastination problem.