It’s really no secret that I wait until the last minute to do most things. Most of the time this serves me well. Adrenaline and coffee have been responsible for more of my own accomplishments than any actual effort of my own. Most of the time I’m just along for the ride.
There is inherent danger, of course, in always relying on the rush of a deadline. And as I get older it’s become evident my tendency to altogether forget about things I’ve pushed to the 11th hour increases with each passing year.
My latest procrastination saw me raking leaves to the curb at 10 o’clock the night before the scheduled pick-up with. This with my bicycle light strapped to the brim of my hat while a pelting rain and 30 mph wind gusts threw my hard work right back in my face.
The elements were no doubt doing their best to punish me for having pushed the limit yet again. (It should be noted that earlier in the day, under a windless and clear blue sky, I had picked up the rake and almost immediately laid it back down in favor of a bicycle ride. I deserved the punishment!)
Nevertheless, despite the additional challenge, I was able to dutifully deliver my leaves to the roadside and meet the deadline. I then retired to the house, content that I had fulfilled my neighborly duty.
It should be noted if it weren’t for neighbors, I wouldn’t rake a single leaf. Rather, I would simply allow my lawn to slowly revert to the temperate rainforest it was before man invented the leaf rake — and its godforsaken successor the leaf blower!
With my autumn obligation fulfilled, I expected to wake up in the morning to the sound of a city crew vacuuming my substantial windrow into the belly of a box truck. Instead I awoke to the muffled white hush of several inches of new snow — the first of the season.
The blanket of white reminded me of a single recent moment when I’d actually planned several months ahead to this very event. It was the height of July when I’d spotted a gently used, pre-owned snow shovel at the Habitat ReStore tagged with the impossible-to-refuse price of $1.
In a most out-of-character move, I’d bought the thing, carried it home and promptly hid it from my wife, lest she’d think I had lost my mind buying a snow shovel in the middle of summer. I’m sure I had intended to move it, in due time, to the back porch in anticipation of the first snow of the season.
The snow was long gone, however, by the time the shovel surfaced. I found it once I’d officially given up after three days of searching. The shovel was in the shed, hanging directly behind the leaf rake I’d hurriedly hung in the dark upon finishing the last-minute leaf job! One of these days I’ll learn my lesson!
Kristin and I would love to hear from you! Write to “Send Help,” P.O. Box 170, Fredericksburg, OH 44627. Be sure to check out Facebook for time-lapse film clips of Kristin’s artwork and other fun stuff at JohnLorsonSendHelp.
The Link LonkDecember 05, 2020 at 04:36PM
https://www.the-daily-record.com/story/lifestyle/columns/2020/12/05/send-help-its-all-planning-not/3806417001/
SEND HELP Planning too far ahead is like not planning at all - Wooster Daily Record
https://news.google.com/search?q=Send&hl=en-US&gl=US&ceid=US:en
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