Can you believe that I’m planning next year’s goals already? I can’t.
I mean, we still have two months left of this year: there’s no way I should be trying to organize next year’s writing and editing goals.
And yet I found myself doing just that yesterday. I’d finished my usual morning routine and had caught up on the Sunday Snippets blog hop, so instead of writing or working on an outline, or doing anything else related to the goals still remaining for this year, I started working on making a list and schedule of my goals for next year.
And at some point it dawned on me that I was procrastinating.
“But I’m not,” I argued with myself. “This is useful stuff that I’m doing.”
Well, yes. It is useful. It’s nice to have a list of the things I want to work on and some sort of timetable for getting them done. But I already have an impossibly long list of things that I need to do by the end of this month. (I procrastinated more today by making a list of them and figuring out that I need to write 6000 words a day for the rest of the month to make my goal – which, admittedly, will make the 2k a day I want to do next month seem like a short note, but still…)
And that’s the most dangerous kind of procrastination – the kind where you’re doing “useful” stuff – because it doesn’t feel like you’re wasting time so you don’t count it as procrastination. (Unlike, say, time spent on FaceBook.)
And now it’s time for me to quit procrastinating and go frost the pumpkin bars, which aren’t really procrastination because you can eat them.