I have a presentation tomorrow. To a possibly large audience. Actually, we have no idea how many will be there. And here’s yet another confession: I haven’t really begun to write…

What is it with procrastination? I’m thinking it’s what Buddhists call delusion. I refuse to believe something unpleasant. I will choose to believe something pleasant. Like I didn’t say I would do this presentation to complete strangers on a topic they probably could care less about…

Once I was coerced into doing much the same thing — presenting on a topic I know a lot about, but that isn’t super popular. Journaling, to be honest :). And sure ’nuff — only 1 person showed up. We had a nice visit about journaling, and why I think it’s important for all writers, and most folks in general. I don’t anticipate a similarly happy ending to tomorrow’s event.

So here’s how my evening looks: find books I seem to have taken to the office. Re-read them. Whittle a four-day workshop into a 90 minutes, max, presentation. Go to bed. The last dependent on the first three, obviously…

Note to self: remember the whole Buddhist ‘face your fear and breathe through it’ teaching? Breathing as you procrastinate isn’t quite the same thing…

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