My procrastination skills are epic. I’ll do any goddamn thing not to write. Yesterday I constructed a hat organizer for my closet with cardboard tubes and jute twine. Last week I leveled my yard, laid down paver sand and astroturf, and built a wooden clubhouse for my son.
I’ll shop for shelf liners on Amazon. I’ll research ways to hang a backyard swing with no trees. I’ll learn how to speak Greek with a decent accent. I’ll make my cats into gifs. I’ll cook, clean, build, bathe, drink, swim, fight, fuck when I “should” be writing.
I made this website to keep from writing a film. It’s a film no one is waiting for, that no one asked me to write. It’s about something very personal. I’m terrified to start it. But I’m more terrified to finish it. Because then I’ll realize I got it wrong.
I think I keep writing because I keep getting it wrong.
And then I build shit to make up for it.