A Little Distracted

We’ve eaten our leftovers and moved on to more standard fare, the events of last week gone in a mad rush to decorate and do and bake and see and whatever it is people do in December. This is a superdupersuperlative time of year, and I mean that in both the positive and negative connotations of my made-up word. Because of all this superduperness, I’m a little distracted.

In real life, I just completed a writing project (yay), and organized some of the flotsam around my desk (meh), but I am supposed to be writing lesson plans (ahem). I know I have achieved new levels of task avoidant awesomeness when the idea of sorting through papers is more appealing than doing what I’m supposed to be doing. At least the desk looks tidier, I tell myself, as I wonder when some deux ex machina is going to save me and inspire me to complete my work.

As I ponder that, I have new books staring at me, beckoning to me. I yearn to answer the call of the crisp, freshly published pages, but I’m supposed to have my brain on silencer. It’s. Not. Silent. I’m singing show tunes and planning what I’ll wear to the holiday parties I’m going to. Should it be the teal satin skirt or the fun striped dress?

I realize I haven’t talked to my best friend in about three weeks, and while she’ll forgive me, it’s suddenly vastly important that I give her a call. Well, send her a text anyway. While I’ m getting my phone, I notice a new catalog with sparkly and decorative ideas. The crafty gal in me is now motivated to make holiday quilts for my friends. Right this second. This sends me towards my sewing supplies.

On the way I pass by my desk, again reminded that the lesson plans are just a few minutes from completion. Won’t I feel fantastic and accomplished when I’m finished? Wouldn’t I rather make a cup of tea first? On the way to the microwave, my husband asks if I want to go for ice cream.

Distracted though I am, one thing doesn’t change: the call of ice cream (coffee for me) supersedes all other calls. The text messages and the books, the catalogs and holiday attire will wait. I finish my lesson plan and I’m out the door, deux ex machina in the form of my spouse. I’ll make decisions about the other distractions when I get back home.


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