i'm pushing this pressure away with a mighty force. i can't convince myself to yield to the task; to fold in and create my best achievable version of what might have been accomplished had I begun earlier.
i do this.
well, just writing that makes me want to slap my face. it's not true. i sometimes achieve everything and more than i could dream of... then there are weeks like this.
i have a deadline looming. it's important to me and i want to do very well. each time, over the last 6 weeks, that i sat down to create, i'd distract myself with curvy trunk lines and tui songs and vaseline gloss and things. here i am, now, with the weight of my procrastination on me and to lighten my anxiety what can i do but write it out.
earlier when i said i do this - i suppose i meant that this feeling is quite familiar. last minute scurrying. i used to wonder if i was somehow deliberately sabotaging myself. if it's no good then its not my fault really - i rushed it together at zero hour. i could always do better. the thing is, i genuinely don't feel like that in this case. i am inspired and feeling confident - well, i was - and i really want to do my best and shine. i want to shine!
he tells me to partition my day and plod away so i can be sure it will be done 'well enough'. that rankles because i am partial to brilliance. pah! well enough? what is that to me - surely, i'd rather fail.
well, baby you may get your wish...
