I have always been a talented procrastinator. Excelling at putting things off, I am the master of the last minute.

Lately, I seem to have taken my procrastination skills to a new level; I am somehow managing to procrastinate away my free time…

On those occasions when I have the time to sit and read my book, write something, make something, DO something, I seem to fritter away my time with nothingness. I scroll my Facebook and Instagram feeds; I read endless articles about the incompetency of our government (and irritate my social media friends by sharing said articles…); I spend time gathering the notebooks I’m going to write in, the pens I’m going to use, the books and pictures that inspire me…and they sit in a pile next to me whilst I scroll through Twitter and Pinterest…

Something isn’t working. I’m not allowing myself to unplug and do the things that I really want to do.

Part of the problem is this weird sort of anxiety I have about not doing these things well enough. I want to write, but I don’t think my writing is that good. Of course my writing would be better if I just got on and wrote! I want to read but sometimes find that I’m not quite in the mood for *that* book, and I really shouldn’t start a different one, or I know I’m tired and will probably fall asleep after a page. You see reading actually makes my brain relax and stop it’s daily whirring, and when that happens I find it hard not to fall asleep. But if I fall asleep now then I’m not doing all those things I could be doing with this precious free time…

And so the cycle continues.