Procrastination- You're Doing it Right

"Tomorrow is often the busiest day of the week"

~Spanish Proverb

This is true. No matter how little work I actually have assigned throughout the week, I still manage to congest the day before a deadline with way to much to do.

Take this week for example. I had to read and take notes on a book, which is a relatively simple task. If I had spread it out over the allotted time, it probably would have only taken me about half an hour a day. Instead, I did it all last night, this morning, and during lunch. 

I'm not really sure how it happened... but it may have gone something like this:

Procrastination is unavoidable. The sudden stress of having too little time to get something done makes those things get done ten times faster than if you had all day to do it. Not only that, but there's a bit of pride involved in procrastination. I know it's a bit twisted to think like this... but who's going to go around bragging to their friends that they worked on their ten page paper everyday for thirty minutes for a month? No, the real hot shots are the kids who walk into class the period before it's due with blurry eyes and a smug expression. They're the ones who get applauded as valiant homework warriors with the will power to pull an all-nighter.

Sure, the person who finishes their project last minute will most likely complete something remarkably crappier than the other kid's, but by that point it doesn't even matter. You're so hyped up over the fact that you finished and no longer have to worry about beating the clock that the actual quality no longer carries any importance whatsoever.

Anyway. I'm sure by now you readers are no strangers to procrastination, so I'm not here to lecture you about it. I just wanted share with you my after-completion face:

This portrait was not intended to be dirty in any way... so stop it. >:C

In other news, here are pictures of my two classy cats. Thank you, April, for the supply of mustache. 

Mustaches

Mustaches are strange, mysterious creatures. I find myself repulsed when I see them on some men, but amazed by their wondrous shape and majestic qualities. Can you be disgusted by and in love with something all at the same time? I think so.

This is what I would look like with a mustache:

It's magnificent, isn't it? I mean... damn. That mustache is foxy.

I bring this up because of my other baby. While DeAngelo may have a terminal illness (DeAngelo is my fake biology son), my other baby is my car. His name is Dexter.

You see, Dexter recently grew a mustache. It is a mustache of endless magic and beauty, and I could not be prouder of my gas-guzzling son. Here are some pictures of him:

Dexter doesn't like the snow all too much.

Growing Dexter's mustache was probably the best decision he ever made. Not only does he win the attention of all the lady cars, but he makes people happy. You just can't frown when you look at facial hair that perfectly constructed.

Such a stud.