Thursday, August 15, 2013
Column Throwback Week #4: On the power of procrastination
But I digress. The scene: Several days before my deadline. Why have I decided to start this at night, when my eyes are drunk with sleep and the computer keys are blurring together? The clock on the wall ticks off the seconds as I stare at a blank computer screen. I can feel my blood pressure rise and beads of sweat form on my forehead as the blinking cursor makes me more and more angry. That blank Microsoft document stretches on for miles in an endless stream of white nothingness; now it's clear why I've always hated that color. I gently tap my foot on the floor, hoping somehow this will bring me the divine inspiration I've been waiting for. But, to no avail. Thirty minutes pass and that evil cursor is still staring me straight in the eye. Blink. Blink. Blink. It's evil. I'm beginning to think it's out to get me, but I try to remain calm. Am I being paranoid? People tell me I'm a paranoid person, but I don't believe them. I like to think of myself as a cautious person. Sensitive? Yes. But paranoid? Definitely not. OK, think hard, I tell myself. I've got to focus if I want to get this column finished in this century. Heck, at this rate, I'll even relax my rigid standards and shoot for this millennium.
"Hey, Melissa, come watch ‘Whose Line Is It Anyway?'” my sister yells.
"Great! I'll be right there,” I say.
"Mother, can you turn the TV off for me?” I yell. My mother's been trying to send an e-mail attachment for the last two hours. "I'm busy,” she replies. I guess I'll have to take matters into my own hands. My finger poised on the remote's power button, I had every intention of turning the TV off. But something went wrong. The remote must have malfunctioned because I hear the sweet tune that is the theme song to FOX's hit The O.C. resonating throughout the living room. Well, there's no time for deep thinking right now. I've never missed an episode of this riveting soap, and I don't intend to start now. Call it my one guilty pleasure, but I can't get enough of this show. I love it because it shows me a world I will probably never experience: The high-class, wealthy, many times shallow, world of Orange County, California. Who wouldn't like to watch rich kids sneak off to Mexico or attend an ultra-hip private school? If only I were rich and...
Hey, there's an idea. Maybe I could write about what it would be like to be wealthy. After all, I do love money, and I love spending money even more. I often dream of rolling in a big, slushy pile of crisp green bills, laughing maniacally. After the show, I head into the kitchen for a late-night snack. This is becoming a regular occurrence for me. I rip open a bag of Jay's barbecue potato chips and reach into the cabinet for a bowl. No snack is complete without a tall, bubbly glass of Pepsi. After all, I'm young. Therefore, I should "think young” and drink Pepsi. All these advertising slogans give me another idea. Well, I'll ponder it more fully after I indulge in my, um, little snack. I sit back down in front of the computer, no further along than when I left an hour earlier. The cursor is still blinking. Did it get bigger while I was gone? Maybe if I get myself in the correct typing position, I'll have better luck. I sit up straight, placing my hands on the keyboard.
[Photos via We Heart It]