Jubilee's Jottings

          Procrastination is not my problem. I get things done by the due dates, and I start working on them a few days before they're due. I don't like to wait until the last minute, in fact I hate when I have to. This was all true until I listened to a talk on procrastination. The person said he had a "PhD" in procrastination and was a professional at it. He talked about things I have always known, things I had read about, but another part stood out to me, convicting me as a criminal.          I procrastinate! The things I procrastinate about aren’t just tasks, they are minutes. I don’t want to get out of bed yet. I’m not going to tidy my room today. I’ll just leave that piece of important mail there. I’ll wait another day to deposit my check. I can respond to that text or email in another day. It’s not urgent (or simple). With all that, I ruin my life.           On a task basis, I have two articles due at my newspaper every other Wednesday. To set perimeters around

   I wonder what interesting things went on the last two weeks. It’s been that long since I posted, as a two-day writer’s conference put me out for a week. I seem to need routine like fish need water. I depend on it but live on other things like oxygen: my mom, bed, quiet, and solitude. I learned when I lived in Harrisburg that I need my mom in person. I thrive on her hugs, and the quiet nighttime chats. After a two-week break where I dug my way through a fog unable to work or eat much, and not getting anything done when I tried, I finally sat down to work on my book. I told my mom I didn’t know where to start after so long. I didn’t think I would be able to get anything done. My mom prayed for me, and then I sat down. I had prayed about the book in the night and this morning, yet I could not bear the thought of sitting down to write. As someone asked me, “How do you write a book?” My answer is one paragraph, even one sentence at a time. I did not sit down to write the book, I s