In
the interest of sabotaging all chances at writing the
next great Australian novel, script, or three paragraphs
of mindless banter, I subscribed to cable television and
had DSL internet installed into my new apartment this
week. According to the muddled reasoning I employed in
considering such a move to distraction, I figured that
with not much planned other than to write, write and write
during my time here in Maine, access to surf for news
and receive emails from home as well as kick back and
relax to a little television from time to time would be
a reasonable, non-excessive reward for my efforts. After
having spent much of yesterday watching live score updates
of Australia play England in the Ashes on my computer
and learning all there was to know about the latest pharmaceutical
drug available to relieve women suffering from weak bladder
control on the television, I'd hazard a guess that it's
time to make a hasty return to focusing on the writing...
Procrastination
has always been one of my stronger skills, something I
certainly refined during my college days when during the
two weeks of 'study vacation' each year I managed to suddenly
become surprisingly adept at throwing a frisbee, watching
'The Bold & The Beautiful', loitering around chatting
and drinking coffee, and playing Goldeneye on the Nintendo
64. I've always said, if procrastination was rewarded
in the real world, then right about now I'd be CEO of
my own company, undoubtedly worth millions, and able to
spend my days throwing frisbees, watching 'The Bold &
The Beautiful', loitering about and playing Goldeneye
on the Nintendo 64. Actually, hold on a minute, I think
I'm on to something...
Still,
I'm not too worried just yet because my resolve to get
huge quantities of writing done is greater than the
urge to watch another Australian wicket collapse, and
more women giving testimonials about how their incontinence
was cured almost overnight. I still have at least a
few shreds of a discerning character left in me. 
That
said, the National Football League's forthcoming television
schedule arrived in the newspaper today, I hear the
new Sopranos season might not be too far away, and someone
just sent me a link to a website all about hats made
entirely from cuts of meat that I inexplicably feel
the urge to investigate immediately.
Trouble's
brewing.
If
in four months time you happen across me and I make
little mention of progress on my book but seem especially
enthusiastic about discussing the statistical qualities
of the New England Patriots' wide receivers, am wearing
a top hat made from topside beef and glowing about how
my incontinence was cured almost overnight with a 'miracle
drug', please hit me.
Now...
With the best of intentions... back to the writing...
Ezy
Reading is out every Monday.
