I am such a bad procrastinator.

Wait, that’s a lie.

I’m actually an excellent procrastinator. I am a professional level procrastinator.

One problem is I got spoiled when living in Los Angeles, and everything was open 24/7.  You could do your grocery shopping any time you liked – or didn’t like, but was convenient to you.

Now I have to plan when I’m going to get the grocery shopping done. 

Another problem is when I order things I will desperately need in the near future and it doesn’t get delivered in a timely manner.  Things like all the special things to maintain our dear cat Berta in the lifestyle to which she is accustomed (and actually requires because she’ diabetic).  That includes diabetic cat food – wet and dry, insulin, syringes, and pee pads because she tends to sit in the cat box with her hinder above the rim.  Not to mention her bone broth and freeze dried chicken for treats.  This is a high maintenance girl.

And then I have to find time to get gas, which ends up being pushed down the priority list until I can no longer ignore the little glowing gas tank on my dashboard.  Hey – I never drive very far, so I am “probably” not going to run out of gas. 

And let’s not even talk about getting my car washed – which it needs more than usual because – oh boy – it’s pollen weather and the tree in front of our house is determined to dump enough pollen on my car so that it goes from dirty gray to a festive yellow (including windshields) overnight!

Today, I had to get gas, run to the vets (because my Chewy order of dry cat food hasn’t shown up and we are OUT), plus do the grocery shopping.  I left the house at 11:30 a.m., knowing I had to start work at 1:00 p.m., and I fucking did it!  Including putting the groceries away. 


Oh, and I still need to pick up a prescription for Berta – which I think I’ll do after my doctor’s appointment on Thursday.

And no, the car still hasn’t been washed. I like yellow.

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