Waiting

Jan 29, 2011 12:42

I have a problem with procrastination. I don't think of it as such. If something's not perfect, surely coming back to it at a later time will give me the clarity or courage to complete it. It's easy to get lost in something else-knitting, music, story, sleep-if only for a little while, if only to feel less immobilized by shame or doubt.

Last night was filled with frank discussions, happiness, snuggles, easy rapport. I returned to my parents' house this morning after breakfast to find trash bags by the front door. My dad explained that my mom had done a bit of picking up in my room a little while ago when my alarm had gone off. I'm afraid to go up there and see the aftermath. I'm ashamed of the way I've been living while I'm here. It's always been easy to hide in my room when I don't have to be anywhere, wait, and occasionally sneak out to grab a can of beans or shower.

Now I'm just waiting for my mother to get off the treadmill before I go up there to do something as small as retrieve my headphones. I'd stay down here for a long time if not for the fact I need to do laundry. I don't want anyone to talk to me about it or tell me not to do that again. Well, it's nearly been an hour with no sign of change; I've had the opportunity to briefly get lost, find some clarity, now it's time to find that courage.
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