Procrastinators of the world unite and take over…eventually.

It is very rare that I blow my own trumpet, but I am willing to admit that I am exceptionally good at procrastinating. In fact, I would say I have it down to a fine art. I put off everything. I’m even procrastinating about writing this, I keep wandering off to listen to a song, read a blog, check a website, anything but pay attention to what I’m supposed to be doing. I’ve always been this way, many a Sunday afternoon was spent writing essays that I’d had weeks to complete but were due the next day, and I still do some of my best work under pressure. I see kids in the library all the time in a panic about assignments that are due tomorrow which they’ve only just decided to start. I understand them, although I do occasionally attempt a lame lecture about not waiting until the last minute and that’s why all the books are out, my heart’s not really in it. Of course the internet makes it a lot easier than it was back in my day, procrastinating kids today don’t know how good they’ve got it.

I procrastinate about the same things over and over again. Every year I tell myself I’ll get my taxes out of the way early, and every year I’m rushing to get them done in the last week. I never get petrol unless I’m about to run out, which is almost always late in the week when the prices are higher. I pay bills on the last day they’re due. I will only restock stuff when it’s actually run out, even if it means being inconvenienced by going without. I never bother to put laundry away because by the time I get around to it, it’s time to wear it again. To go with it, I hate the thought of being late with anything, so bills never get paid past the due date and taxes are always done by the deadline, I just wait until the last possible minute to do it on time. My favourite thing is when I’ve put something off so long, it no longer needs doing.  Just think of all the time I’ve saved not doing stuff that didn’t really need to be done after all!

Oddly cheerful

A strange feeling has come over me recently, one that I keep expecting will leave me at any moment, but doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. I guess I would call it cheerful, and it’s definitely an odd feeling. I hadn’t thought of myself as an unhappy person, more quiet and contemplative, which can come across as unhappy when it really isn’t. I’m never going to be a perky, sunshine and lollipops kind of girl, and I don’t think I want to be, but I didn’t realise just how dark my general mood had become until I came out of it. There was no big moment to signify the change, just a series of small events that made a big difference. We are no longer tragically short staffed at work for instance, which means I’m not coming home physically and mentally exhausted and lying awake at night thinking about how things are going to get done the next day. And the most difficult person I have ever worked with moved on to another position, which was a huge relief. Have you ever met someone who’s so completely different from you in every way that you can find virtually no common ground? It was the most painful working relationship I’ve ever endured. I used to think I was fairly easy going when it came to getting on with people, but this person certainly challenged that.

But the biggest change is being able to deal with my ridiculously all-consuming anxiety. I freely admit that I am an overly anxious person, always have been, but it was starting to really impact on me and I wanted to deal with it before it became a more serious problem. I took part in a trial online course that used what I assume are standard cognitive behavioural therapy techniques. It didn’t feel like it would make much of a difference at the time, but in the months since I completed the course I’ve made some very positive changes to the way I think, almost without realising it. I can talk myself out of even the most serious anxiety before it takes hold, and it’s such a nice feeling not to be obsessing about the most stupidly inconsequential things all the time. It also means that I don’t get to that dark and miserable place very often anymore, whereas I was going there on a daily basis for a while there. I don’t think you can change your basic disposition, and I’ve always had a somewhat melancholy demeanour, but it’s just nice to feel happier. Although it does have one unexpected side affect – boredom. I had no idea how much time and energy I spent on being anxious until I stopped doing it! Now the time I used to spend going over and over the smallest things in tiny detail needs to be filled. I feel like I should take up a hobby, I’ve never had any beyond reading, television and surfing the net, do they even count as hobbies? Where would I even begin to search for a potential hobby? I don’t know that I can be bothered trying different things until I find something that works. Perhaps this is the point where I should attempt to get a life? Although I wouldn’t know what to do with that, either. But it’s okay, I haven’t completely gone over to the other side. I’m already feeling uneasy just writing this, like a scene from a bad movie where someone goes on and on about how very happy they are and you just know something bad is coming. That’s better.

Glenn Tilbrook: One for the Road

I’ve just been watching Glenn Tilbrook: One for the Road again. It’s a documentary following him as he travels the US in an RV, playing solo acoustic shows. Watching him perform with such enthusiasm and obvious enjoyment to tiny crowds a world away from his Squeeze heyday, is just awe inspiring. His ability to engage the audience and make them part of the show, leading them outside to perform on the street, in Grand Central Station, even at an audience member’s house, is a joy to watch. Glenn Tilbrook running backwards down the street while singing and playing guitar, being followed by his entire audience, makes me want to rush out and see live music again in a way that a huge stadium concert never could. It’s so real and accessible, music in its purest form played for eager listeners by an amazing musician. Perfect. It leaves me feeling warm and happy, and reminds me once again that listening to music can be such a wonderful, mood altering experience. I love that.

The joy of CDs

I have never been very good at dealing with change and I’m very reluctant to embrace new technology if it means letting go of something I love. I hated it when records were overtaken by CDs, I avoided them for as long as I could. As a teenager I spent what little money I had on records, they were my most prized possessions, and I fought long and hard against having to buy CDs instead. When I did eventually accept the inevitable the first CD I bought was by INXS, a band I was never particularly keen on. I think I was still so suspicious of this scary new technology that I didn’t want to risk getting something I really liked. Of course I did come around eventually, and I’ve spent the last 20 years replacing most of the favourite albums I already had on vinyl. Now I’m a little concerned that I keep seeing bands releasing stuff on 7 inch and MP3, but no CD. I try to buy CDs rather than download whenever possible, I even recently cancelled my eMusic subscription, and I love eMusic. It’s just that I don’t listen to much on iTunes, and I only listen to the iPod when I’m out and about (which, as I’ve mentioned before, is not very often), so I had downloaded a whole lot of stuff that I hardly ever listened to, and several albums I just completely forgot I had. And I like having something tangible. As much as I appreciate the instant gratification of downloading, I enjoy the anticipation of a new CD more. I love the ritual – ripping off the plastic, opening and playing it for the first time, reading every word in the booklet, poring over the pictures - much like I did with records in the old days. It’s an event, and one of those small pleasures that I really miss when I download.

I don’t want to be left behind with technology, but I think it’s going to take me a while to warm to all the digital options available. A little while ago I joined Last.fm to see what that was about. I downloaded the software that linked to my iTunes and initially I enjoyed the novelty. It was kind of interesting to see what I’d listened to the most, but since I still do most of my listening on CD it wasn’t a very accurate indication of my listening habits. After a while it started to feel odd, and a little creepy, that people could see what song I’d listened to exactly four days, seven hours and 22 minutes ago, especially if I had listened to it on my iPod. And doesn’t everyone have guilty listening pleasures that they may not necessarily want to broadcast to the entire world wide web? It was all too much information for my liking. I think I’ll get the records out over the weekend and pore over them once again. It’s nice to relive my youth every once in a while, even though it usually ends up making me feel older than ever.

A Hard Day’s Night

The Beatles cartoon was one of my favourites growing up. I particularly loved the sing along section half way through, I’m sure it’s how I learned the Beatles songs early on. I’ve mentioned it to many people over the years and I’m always surprised at how few remember it, I have a very strong memory of watching it regularly, although it must be around thirty years ago now. It was an American series (which explains the accents) and was made from 1965-1967, but would have been shown well into the seventies in Australia. I looked it up on YouTube last week and have been watching random episodes ever since. It’s pretty much as I remember, although I didn’t notice the cheesy storylines and appalling accents back then. They certainly don’t make ‘em like they used to, which may not be such a bad thing!

This is the first part of episode one, featuring A Hard Day’s Night.