I’m putting off my revisions. I was all set to dive back in today. I even psyched myself out for it at 4 this morning. I knew exactly what I needed to do. I still want to meet my deadline of being done by the end of the month. Someone reminded me yesterday that September ends in a week. Which isn’t true. I still have nine days. That’s almost a week and a half. Which is really almost like two weeks. So I still have two weeks to finish right?

I would have worked on it this morning before work, but I slept in (because I was awake at 4 am…so good excuse, right?) Or maybe I could have done it after I finished automating a process that didn’t need to be automated because supposedly it’s going away soon. Soon being a relative term, I decided to do it anyway. But it’s work, not procrastination. I’m supposed to be doing work here.

Besides, I keep forgetting to bring my USB drive with me when I’m in places where I can write. It sits right next to my laptop. So I don’t know if my subconscious is having me leave it behind because it doesn’t want me to revise, or if I’m just forgetful.

I should look into cloud storage. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about forgetting my USB drive. But then I’d have to set it up. And remember to transfer my files to it. And I don’t trust clouds yet, because I work too closely with the technology and it makes me nervous, even though that’s on a whole different level.

or I could write it all in google docs. Which is cloud-like anway, but actually has a word processor attached to it and I could access it from anywhere.

Except I don’t like the way it exports to Word. it screws up my formatting to switch back and forth between the two and I’m a creature of habit and besides, my story is in Scrivener right now anyway and that’s not really a compatible format…

But none of these are excuses. Not at all. I’m not putting it off because I have trouble finding balance in world-building. I know what’s too much. I know what’s too little. I know my world. I now know that Ronnie likes to dance when there’s music and she hates to be talked down to, and she likes the material things in life but mostly only because they’re new to her.

I just don’t know where the middle-ground is once I cut out all the unneccesary.

And my mind has convinced me it has to be perfect this time. Which is ridiculous, but try telling that to my brain.

But I’m not procrastinating. Not me.

I’m going to lunch. That’s it. I have to eat. And put my USB drive somewhere that I’ll remember it next time I’m on my way to write. Like in my jeans pocket. And hope it doesn’t go through the wash.

Yeah.

Does your subconscious ever procrastinate for you?