Day 2 and already I’m slightly struggling. Before getting in a panic (well more of a slight sigh then a full blown sweaty “find the keys” panic) about whether the ideas have run dry already, they haven’t. I just don’t want to “blow my load” on the next 7 days then be forced to write about my favourite cheese or how much I find extended eye contact alluring but creepy at the same time. But again that somewhat prejudice died out as well because those topics are probably inevitable. So this blog shall be all about, procrastination.
I’m fantastic at it, even before I wrote this I finished about 40 starburst, even though after about 10 of them I said “this will be the last one, then I will get down to some work”. In-fact, while I’ve written this blog, I’ve taken a few breaks, watched Mock the Week and QI on youtube and thought about playing guitar, then realised it might need some effort. I’m not lazy, I’m just a bit “motivation in-sufficient”. I’d blame it on the insomnia tiring me out but I’ve always been like that depending on the day or task at hand. I’ve found out over the years that I’m terrible at doing what I’m told. I don’t burn the house down then graffiti “shit on the system” in marker pens all over town hall. I just find myself incapable of doing a good job when I have someone I don’t connect with at all breathing down my neck (there’s an incest joke here somewhere).
Verbal assault, in front of an audience.
Although, there was an exception to that in GCSE. I loved my form tutor, she was a lovely lady and taught me French, but I failed really badly at it (got an f, an f for French of course). I liked her so much, that when I was told during graduation that I would have to get on the microphone in front of about 600-900 parents/teachers and say a nice thing about her, I was very much up for it. I watched as uncharismatic (maybe they were doing deadpan style but without jokes) people read from a cue card which was no doubt written by the teacher themselves. They splurted out the most typical, boring (but appropriate no doubt) and recycled stuff about the chosen teacher. Things like “he is an inspiration”, “she has taught me things I never thought I’d understand” “he helped me get rid of the body by saying I should feed them to pigs”. Made me think, the naughty ones had no hand in thinking of things to say.
It got to my turn, I lined up as people received there certificates to say they’ve managed to live in Canons High School for 4 years. I was slightly nervous and I debated what I should say. “Should I go with the recycled stuff discussed earlier or shall I just go with, what I just thought of, planned or improvised, planned or improvised”. I went with improvised. So 600-900 people watched me say with relative calm and swagger “Yeah Miss Grainger is a fantastic teacher, and if I was 30 years older, thwa…”. Luckily they all laughed and clapped which was fantastic because if they were silent I’d be on a register of some sort. She wasn’t creeped out either just very red, either from embarrassment or shame that a somewhat presumably sensible student (which was a bit rare in my school) had just proclaimed to the parents of the school that he’d do her if he was 46. Best thing about it was she didn’t hit me, she just said “30 years older?”, not that I’m saying I had a chance, at all. She probably wanted to headbutt me for what I had caused, because she wasn’t very much into being talked about one on one, let alone becoming a victim of verbal sexual assault in front of an audience of 600+.
Well I guess this is a really good advertisement for my blog, I go to try and talk about a subject as important as procrastination and I side track into a story about being me being a dickhoop. And I changed the teachers name of course! Don’t want to make her anymore embarrassed then she was. But if you were there you’d know the name and the somewhat bewildered looks of some of my class mates! I’ve been saying this for about 3-4 years now, if anyone videoed that and the “talk” Sahil and I did I’d be eternally grateful. My mum tried to video it but she got shakey hand syndrome which was then followed with the thought of “I’m sure Sean would only want to watch the first five minutes of this anyway”. I forgive her though, mums are awesome.