Procrastination Nation

I really should be packing, but….

I’m out here on my computer trying to design the interior of our new home. I’ve basically got a 50′ x 50′ box to play with. It’s a lot of square footage, I know. I wish it weren’t so damn big. I don’t know what to do with all that space! As I have it now, I have four bedrooms, 2 1/2 baths, an office and a small room by the back door I can use for gardening. It’s twice the size of the home I grew up in. Wow.

I know this should be fun, but it’s putting knots in my stomach. When you’re designing the place you could live in for the next 20 or 30 years, you want to get it right. We’re going to do most of the work ourselves, so hopefully SpyDad and I will still be married when we finally get to move the furniture in. Undercover grandfather keeps warning me every time we speak on the phone that many marriages fall apart when couples try to build their own home. He says it every time, and I still have to remind him that “Yes, I already know. And no, I don’t plan on getting a divorce.”

What a way to start a new chapter in my life: with divorce papers. I really appreciate the faith that my own father has in me.

Well, I suppose you want to know what happened at work. I decided to wait until Thursday to put my notice in. I had this nagging feeling, given the nature of my job that they would walk me out the same day. By Thursday I was ready to walk myself out. I printed two letters of voluntary resignation. One gave 2 weeks notice, and the other gave one day of notice. I finally went with the 2-weeker although I have no intention of staying that long.

I turned it in to the HR lady, and she seemed somewhat shocked even though she was the one that recommended that my boss put me on a two month improvement plan. I haven’t even met with my boss about that in over a month. Some improvement plan, eh? I couldn’t find my boss, and finally called him. When I told him, he sounded shocked and asked if it would be possible to actually serve out the 2 week sentence. I told him I would give him 1 week. I have to pack, HELLO?

So there you have it. Most likely my procrastination will continue, and SpyDad will be yelling at me to get my crap packed, and I’ll lay in bed like I did today, still in denial and contemplating what I should and shouldn’t pack or put in the garage sale. When your heart isn’t fully in to packing, it’s tough to get going. Cross your fingers for me. I have 2 weeks and 3 days to get it all done.  Otherwise, my dad may be right about those divorce papers all along.