The Price of Procrastination

The price of procrastination

The price of procrastination


That’s the price I paid today, anyway. That is how much it costs to make sure something posted on a Saturday arrives on a certain desk by lunchtime on Monday. To be fair, it doesn’t strictly have to be there until 5pm, but that might be cutting it too fine even for one so accustomed as I to sliding in under a closing door at the very last moment. Metaphorically speaking.

It could have cost £17.23 to be there by 9am – but I think lunchtime will do, don’t you?

Of course, had I posted the bloody thing yesterday I might have got away with the price of a couple of first class stamps. Had I posted it last week…

The problem was, in order to post it, I had to write it. And in order to write it I had to – umm – sit down, concentrate, and write. Only 250 words, a mere pimple on the literary landscape. But a mountain colossus to me because, in that handful of artfully arranged words, I had to describe why I would make a good addition to the Council of Governors for the Kent Community Health NHS Trust.

And I had no idea what to say.

Anyway, its done. I doubt it will advance my cause much, but at least I’ve made a start. In fact I’ve made two – because here I am! A blog post does not a blogger make, I grant you, but the wonder is, I thought of this today and BAM! Here. The Fuck. I Am.

I need to go lie down and consume some wine.

NOTE added a few hours later: of course, had I realised I was missing Strictly, BAM would so not have been the word.

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