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the great dodging

Alright.  I am at the library.  I found a spot that, if I turn my head over my left shoulder, I can see the day fast disappearing.  I got my free post-3pm coffee at hand, and have finished hitting up Google reader and facebook.  I tried talking to people on gchat, but no one is biting (they must be on to me), and now, I am here, writing a blog for my law school about procrastinating in order to procrastinate.

Yet, I feel so productive while doing it!

It has become an art, productive-procrastination.  I have become very good at finding meaningful, useful things to do, that make me feel justified in not outlining, studying, or reading for class.  Brewing is just the tip of the iceberg.  There is also the banjo, ice cream making, making four course meals on Mondays, and writing letters to grandma.  My mom would be happy to know that I clean my bathroom often and I am on top of my laundry.  It all seems so familiar…oh right, undergrad.

Why is work like an ex-lover’s house that you go far out of your way to avoid seeing?  The elephant in the room that leers at you when you are trying to be a good hostess at your cocktail party?  The most important but last thing to be crossed off on your to-do list?

I remember taking swimming lessons during the summers as a kid.  I was pretty good at everything, including holding my breath underwater the longest.  But I hated the diving portion of the day.  I would move to the back of the line, biding my time before I would have to make the plunge.  The instructors would tell us how to dive correctly, but I considered it an accomplishment if I willed myself to jump in at all.  I still get hung up on jumping in, anticipating the shock that I can’t control.  We compromise by wading in, but where is the line between the gradual process of immersing oneself, and the deceptive art of avoidance?  When are we accumulating ourselves, and when are we keeping a part of ourselves in a comfortable space we know?

I find myself again, like many others, at the edge of the pool, knowing that I have to jump in.  At some point they will expect me to know how to dive, as well.

Here goes nothing.

splash.

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