#amprocrastinating

[marlynnofmany]

Morning Sunlight: *changes angle to reflect off the inside of my glasses, shining directly in my left eye*

Me: *put up hoodie*

Me: "Ha-HA! I have defeated the sun!"

Morning Sunlight: *illuminates every fingerprint smear on my laptop screen*

Me: "Touche."

[inspirited-goddess]

The way my schedule is clear for the rest of the night but I’m gonna procrastinate on doing NaNoWriMo today by finding literally ANYTHING else to do lmfao my ass does not want to write

[madmoonink]

“Am I this broken?”

The apartment door opened and closed. Marc was home. Already. And Flynn was exactly where he had been when Marc had left. He hadn't worked on the music and for the life of him, he couldn't remember the stupid, fucking lyrics that weren't saved when his stupid, fucking laptop had crashed. All the shit he wanted to do, needed to do and yet, he had accomplished nothing, wasted another day, only adding to the time pressure and his restlessness. The sunlight was warm on his skin and the sky as blue as it got. A beautiful day, only to contradict his mood, to mock him.

Marc stepped on the balcony, a deep crease forming between his eyebrows. "Still moping?"

Asshole! "I'm not moping! Do you know how much progress I lost?!"

"And it definitely sucks. But so does what you're doing right now." Marc extended a hand. "Get up."

Flynn ignored him and lit another cigarette. He inhaled deeply.

Marc banged the door shut. "I told you to close it when you smoke."

"Turns out we don't really get what we want, do we?" Maybe that went a little too far. Marc deserved it, though.

"Get up.", Marc said. Cold, barely concealed anger in his voice. "Drink a glass of water, take a shower and eat something."

"I haven't moved the entire day. What makes you think I'll do it now?"

Marc smiled a truly unhappy smile. "Cause otherwise I'll haul your ass in myself and make you."

"Do you think I do this for fun? That I want my day to be like this? That I want to be like this?", Flynn snapped.

Marc sighed. "Wait there, I'll get you something to drink."

Flynn stared at the same bit of surface rust on the handrail he'd been looking at for hours. He bounced his leg. He needed something to take the edge off. Marc reappeared and handed him a water bottle, sitting down next to him. "What's bothering you so much?"

That he wouldn't be able to make the deadline, again. That this time it wasn't even his fault. That he was a failure? Not really. "No clue."

"Are you asking to much of yourself?"

"Nah."

"Really?"

"The deadline is completely doable."

Marc nodded. "Are you sleeping well? Do you feel irritated, antsy, overexerted by minor shit? Do you see where I'm going with this?"

Flynn massaged his temple.

"It happens every time you set a deadline like that."

He rested his head on his knees. "Maybe I am just lazy."

"Maybe. Or maybe you're sick. Maybe you'll never work good under pressure."

"Fuck!" Flynn threw the bottle against the railing and jumped to his feet. "Am I this broken? Can't my head ever be fucking normal? When did this happen?" Marc got up. "Does it matter? Cause it won't change a thing."

Flynn paced on the small balcony. "I don't want my head to fuck with me every time I try to do what everyone else does!"

Marc didn't stop him. "I get that. But. Those are the cards you've been dealt. Your personal strengths and weaknesses. You can fight yourself and be miserable, making everyone who cares about you miserable as well or you can accept it and adapt." He placed his hand on Flynn’s chest. "You don't do well with deadlines? Don't set them. Fuck your current one. In the end no one cares. Set goals without a deadline. Try again in a few month, years, whatever - if that's something you really need to do. Right now it doesn't look like it's working. At least to me. Correct me if I'm wrong."

He was probably right. Smarty-pants. Flynn ran a hand through his hair. "Feels like defeat, though. Defeated by my own damn brain. Yet again."

"You're taking control over your life, you're making a decision based on what's good for you in the long run. How is that defeat?"

Losing the battle, winning the war. "You know, I've already been at this point. How did I end up here again? Why do I keep repeating my mistakes?"

"Cause you hoped it would go different this time?"

Because he thought he could handle the pressure. Would he ever? Would he ever function like a normal person, like he did at some point in his life?

"You still look mopey."

"Fuck you."

Marc sighed again. "We already had this conversation and I'm not having it again. Let's try a different approach: The pep talk."

Flynn rolled his eyes.

"Obviously you still have hope and you won't go down without a fight. That's something good, you know? Life is a struggle, we'll always have to fight, but just for the fun of it, let's stay persistent - you know like roaches."

"Seriously, dude, cockroaches? In a pep talk?"

"Yup. And now go, take a shower before you start to attract them. You stink."

"Again, fuck you!"

Marc patted his shoulder, pushing him through the door. It wasn't good, not by far. He still had to explain why he wouldn't be able to deliver the songs on time. But Marc was right. Sitting on the balcony smoking, too exhausted or fucked up to get anything done, he was no use to anyone. He had to fix himself first. If past experiences were an indication it would take at least two weeks to get his sleep back to normal and that was only the first step. But it was a start. And there was a way to make it easier. He closed the bathroom door behind him and undressed. Waited for the hot water. Only stepped into the shower when it was scalding. Hot streams running down his body. His strengths and weaknesses, the hand he'd been dealt. He could bitch and cry about it or he could accept it and get on with his life. Even if he had to do it again and again and again. But in the end it wasn't about the destination, it was about the journey. The today. Great, Marc's sappiness was rubbing off on him. Disgusting.

[marlynnofmany]

Me: "I don't wanna write this next scene. I haven't figured out how it's going to go."

Also Me: "I could do this other work instead, which is much less fun."

Me: *stares into space for minutes on end* "Oh hey, I know what should happen in that scene now."

[marlynnofmany]

First typo of the day: "crowcar" instead of "crowbar."

I will not get distracted by the idea of a crow steering with its beak. I won't. I will be strong.

[marlynnofmany]

So what are YOU doing to procrastinate today? I'm looking up gifs of octopuses walking to find one that's a match for how I visualize my tentacle aliens parading down the spaceship hallways.

("It's not a shambling, dragging-their-bodies kind of walk; they call themselves Strongarms for a reason. Oh, this one's pretty close. Maybe that cartoon...")

[marlynnofmany]

Well that was a nice few minutes of procrastinating goofing around wasting time self care. "Time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time," and all that. Even brief vacations are good.

Now, back to work with a metaphorical suntan and beach sand in my hair.

[marlynnofmany]

"I shall reach into this for snacks to put in my mouth, and that for cat toys to throw. Repeatedly. With the same hand. I see no way this can go wrong."