Procrastination

I'm often blase about my procrastination. I consider it a normal part of the writing process, and furthermore I maintain that sometime during the 7-odd years I taught Freshman English, I read a study somewhere (likely College English) arguing that what gets called procrastination is actually just "latency," and with enough wisdom and the proper research methodology, we can discern Great Cognitive Things going on under the surface of what looks like a pointless, anxiety-driven waste of time.

However, today is a brilliant blue summer day with just a few puffy clouds snagged on the Olympics, and it's 80-some-odd degrees out, and I'm at the office, and the air conditioning is off, and sun is slanting through the floor-to-ceiling unshaded west-facing windows, and the room is becoming increasingly sauna-like, and I really think I should have rewritten this client report sometime last week.

It also feels really decadent to be making a giant office-size pot of coffee just for me...