I procrastinate too much. Take this post for instance. On the fourth of June, on my way to work on the MRT, it was nearly too crowded to turn the newspaper you are reading, standing up, to the next page. And so I put down my newspaper and people-watched. And saw that a woman was just in front of me, facing my right, with earphones on. She took out a plastic folder and extracted a sheaf of A4 printouts. For some reason, I thought she was an insurance agent or preparing for some sort of presentation, and I lost interest and looked elsewhere. Then I saw out of the side of my eye that she was moving strangely, so I turned back – she was holding the printouts firmly in front of her, and while looking at them, she firmly lifted her shoulders, and sank them back down, lifted her shoulders, sank them back down, all the while looking intently at the printouts. Which was of course where I looked next, and I saw that on the printouts there was a list of songs or tunes and beside each song a corresponding exercise and remarks – as I remember it; this is the trouble with procrastination – such as “fast-paced” and “energetic”, which I took to be instructions for how to conduct an aerobics class. So the woman in front of me, so early in the morning (seven-something a.m.), in a world of her own taking time from her commute to rehearse her aerobics routine, was probably an aerobics instructor. I felt minutely proud of myself for this admittedly short chain of reasoning – it was a good start to the day. And thinking back, this aerobics instructor, who seemed to take her job more seriously than many of those with more conventional careers and would presumably enjoy it quite a lot, was indeed preparing for a presentation. I hope she and her class enjoyed that day’s session.
Later in the day, I heard someone who was not Sarah McLachlan sing “Angel”, and felt a sudden overbearing urge to listen to the original.
But, it must not have been that overbearing, since I’ve delayed that gratification, till now.