Professional Procrastinator.

Sometimes, I feel this old.

I was listening to a show on YouTube, and the idea of getting something done, wasn't the act of doing, it was more of the act of starting. Just the getting off the couch to do something, to open the door to go outside to do that yardwork I've been trying to get done for weeks. 

I am a professional procrastinator. If I can find a reason, or something else todo that will resolve me of doing that which I know I need to get done, I'll do the other thing first. Then, there won't be enough time to get the first thing done. So, I'll put it off till tomorrow, and then tomorrow never comes. 

There is also the notion of living in the solution, and not the problem. Right now, I've been living in the problem about some banking changes, and I've found a solution, now to put it to the test, and get some feet under my solution. 

Getting solutions is like getting a great night sleep and getting up ready to face the day. Instead of being grumpy because the sun came up on the same old situation I went to sleep with. 

Wednesday

Time to get Grumpy up. It seems that she has been harder to get out of bed lately. Grumpy seems to be the best way to describe her personality. She is like the teenager who has to get up to go to school. As a parent and at one time a teenager facing those days, I know what I'm talking about. 

The more I insist, the more she fights getting up. It is "I will", "In just a minute." "Leave me alone." and so on. In the long run, I convince her that it is time for her to get up and get going. 

As we go through our morning routine, all the boxes have check marks by them. Up, potty, shower, clean cloths, and breakfast. While she is still eating, I'm busy brushing my teeth, making the bed, putting dirty clothes in the washing machine. (The washing machine is my hamper and it works well.) 

Then it is in the car and off for the course. This morning she has her stone face on. Doesn't seem to hear me, or even acknowledge my presence. My fear is relieved by the time we arrive at the course. 

Having so much trouble with my putting that it is driving me crazy. I know I need to put time in on the putting green before we play, but that isn't possible while Sweetie is with me. She'd get bored and start to wonder. 

The solution is to work extra hard while we are playing. 

After the game, we did the home, lunch and to the mall trick. 

While we were doing our walk about, Sweetie was on a mission to finish the outing as quickly as possible. It didn't matter what I did, she just put her head down and marched on. No smiles, no extra conversation, just walking.

She even let go of my hand and kept walking. It bothered me some, but I knew if I let her go, I'd pay hell for letting her go. So, I just kept up with her, and when we got done, she was worn out. 

Home and to her nest. In the meantime, I got out and finally got the Iris's transplanted. As I was digging up the bulbs, I discovered that there are more than I could see. Breaking up the bulbs, and putting them in the new planter, and if half of them survive, we should have some beautiful flowers this spring. 

As the evening wore on, dinner was fast approaching. I'd gotten Sweetie to join me on the couch which was nice. When it came to me cooking, she got up had headed back to her nest. 

We did the nest, couch, nest dance. Got her to eat her dinner, then she headed back to her nest again. 

We finished the day on a neutral base, tilled to the good side. Holding hands, saying our prayers, and off the sleep we went. 

From a rough start, to a smooth finish, Driver got us through yet another day on the Road to Dementia Town. Listening to the radio, singing along with songs being played, avoiding pot holes along the way. We were able to Keep Our Shiny Side Up. C'ya, Luv Ya, and God Bless.   Arthur.