Faffing on

It's definitely a skill. And a method of good old fashioned procrastination.

The books on the shelf need reorganising; the jumper that's been drapped over the chair for the best part of the week needs to be put away. Right now. Right this minute. It's an odd one, but when I stop to query it (and I always catch myself in the middle of a faff) there's usually a thing I am delaying.

Today the obvious answer is this, the second daily draft. But it's not the act of writing that I'm putting off, that I'm trying to delay.

I realise it's the commitment to starting a streak. Now this is done, yesterday's writing is no longer a one off. It becomes part of something bigger. It will be harder to take down a week's worth of writing than one day.

I catch myself faffing on even when I have things to get done that I want to do; things that I'm looking forward to doing. I'm starting to see the faffing as coming from a place of uncertainty and anxiety about what's coming next. And trying to view what's coming next as a cause for excitement and intrigue, not worry and concern.