Deferment ... or Procrastination by any other name would smell as grubsome

pro·cras·ti·nate   

[proh-kras-tuh-neyt, pruh-] 

verb, -nat·ed, -nat·ing.

–verb (used without object)

1. to defer action; delay: to procrastinate until an opportunity is lost.  (from Dictionary.com)

This is what I am doing right now. Procrastinating. Delaying. Putting it off. Being an arse. Because that's what I do. I procrastinate. I woke up this morning knowing what I was going to do today, knowing that I was going to write - WRITE GODDAMMIT - and yet here I am writing, to be sure, but not writing what I had planned to, what I'm excited about. Because that's what I do. I self-sabotage. I'm even conscious of doing it, but I have so far been unable to counter it. To tell it to kiss my fat shiny arse. To defeat it, that tiny voice of unreason that insists if I start this thing I am going to regret it, that I can't do it anyway, that I'm an impostor, a fraud, a bungling fool who'll only end up making a mess and drowning in a puddle of her own presumption. 

Well, fuck that. I'm sick of the loss, of constantly thinking "what if". No one else is going to do it for me, and I'm finally sick of waiting for them to - of waiting for some magic event that will "change everything". That's what's different about this day. I am the change I want to see in the world, Mr Gandhi said something along those lines, and it's finally true. Today I name my sin, my filthsome companion, the low-bellied Procrastination. I have named it and shamed it. Go now, Procrastination and join my other cast offs, Messrs Envy, Sloth and Greed. Because today, I write.