Procrastination...

OK, so I've got an article due tomorrow on bicycling here in Tulare County. I've got my research and I'm ready to write. Should be no problem at all. I live here and riding my bike is one of my favorite things. But, I'm not writing. Why? Beats the holy living crap out of me.

See, when I have a deadline I get this lump in my stomach, a feeling of dread. Sort of a really pussy-assed thing. Fear. Whatever you want to call it, I hate it.

I almost have to siddle up to these things nonchalantly, sort of pretending I'm just fucking around and then, boom, I'm in the middle of getting the thing actually written. What's really pathetic about this is I've been writing articles like this professionally for a decade now.

There's the problem, and here's the solution: Ignore that lump. It's obviously my psyche tring to protect me from something it sees as a threat. Stupid when considered on a conscious level, but something else must be at play. What? I don't know. But, my mind is at war with itself it seems over this issue and neither side is willing to explain itself to the part of me that is me and sits on top of the subconscious getting tossed around like a raft at the junction of two powerful currents. Ignore the pull and tug of the currents and keep rowing, Dave. Keep rowing.