Getting Stuff Done

It's Saturday, which is supposed to be my day to get stuff done. Instead, I'm ruminating on why I don't seem to get stuff done.

Here's one end of my dining room table:

Here's the other end:

Today I named this the Table of Procrastination. I scowl or sigh or shrug whenever I walk through the dining room. I can't not look. But I can keep going.

That box? Three new pairs of pants to be shortened for my daughter. Three more to be returned to Lands End via Sears. The cowboy hat should go back to the attic. I should read that paper, or at least page through it.

At the other end of the table, there's a book to read--I have to start it if I'm going to finish it in time for the discussion. There's a bill hiding there somewhere, and coupons that remind me of getting the jump on Christmas shopping. I should look through that big binder about writing and then haul it back to from whence it came. And yes, put the salt and pepper away and once the table is clear wash the tablecloth so it's ready for Thanksgiving.

This is my couch. These are the things I actually do and would like to be doing more of:

Yes, there are two different knitting projects there, two shades of purple, in two plastic see-through zipper bags. A book that I very much want to read. Books with more knitting projects in them. The remote control. And most evenings, my laptop.

I have to walk past the first two pictures to get to the third. And I have no trouble doing that. Because I am a procrastinator.