Do not press....!

Why, oh why do I insist on procrastinating? Why do I leave super-important things to the last minute and cause myself hair-pulling, lip-chewing, piercing-fiddling stress and anxiety?

I mean, I know what's good for me, and what I should do. After all, I'm a "mature, young adult" (apparently). I'm reasonably successful at holding down a job, managing bills and all the little things that make up "adulthood". And yet I trip over stupid little things. Like that membership I keep intending to apply for, that big bottle of bubble bath I need to replace, picking up that piece of paper on the floor - you get the picure.

I suspect it's all down to my tendency to press that shiny red self-destruct button with "Do Not Press" emblazoned underneath it. You know how it is. Someone tells you not to laugh, and somehow you get this uncontrollable urge to do just that. It's the same with the shiny red button. Tempting you, seducing you with its ruby hue and forbidden status. It's like a bar of Munchies. You know, the ones with "You Know You Want To" written on the side. I know I shouldn't press the button. But damn, do I want to!

Ok, so I don't go out partying until dawn every night, drinking myself into oblivion. I don't tell my boss to go **** himself. I don't walk around causing public disorder, starting riots and whatnot. I don't do anything illegal (I think!!). But the tendency to be self-destructive is not limited to major things like all the examples I listed just now. It applies to doing things (or not doing things) you know you shouldn't (or should do). Like right now. I'm stressing cos of a deadline that's fast approaching, with relatively little done. I could have avoided this so easily. How? By being nice to myself, through being proactive and thus allowing myself to have a stress-free existence. It's my own fault for leaving what I had to do to the very last minute. It may come as a surprise to some, but that knowledge is of scant comfort...!

DO NOT PRESS

So, in the meantime, I'll breathe through the stress and meet the deadline, ploughing through what has to be done. And I'll tell myself, firmly, that this is the last time. That I will be more organised. That I will remember the crappy feeling associated with exactly this kind of situation. "I.will.be.nice.to.myself." - my current mantra, repeated through gritted teeth.

But, oh, what's that? Flashing in the corner of my eye? My nemesis, aka SRBSD, aka Shiny Red Button of Self-Destruction! Nooooo.....!!