Happy Day After Tax Day (and Friday)

So now that I've cleaned up at least one nasty habit and started getting my taxes done ahead of April 15th, I was a little bit shocked to find people here at work, during a 2:00 meeting yesterday, who HADN'T STARTED THEIR TAXES. I wanted to beat them about the shoulders and head and say, DON'T! DO! THAT!

I think what surprised me most about it was just how open they were in admitting they hadn't done a damn thing on their taxes. My personal procrastination is my secret shame (that, and my love of frozen Jeno's pizza, raspberry Zingers, and blue Kool-Aid), and frankly I know it would shock my co-workers to know that outside of work, I'm one indolent motherfucker. I'm Miz Proactive at the office. I don't just get shit done on time. I get shit done early. And I swear, it's not an apple-polishing thing -- I just know that if I don't tackle a "doable in 5 minutes task" that second, I will forget about it altogether.

So I kinda feel like I have to hide the lollygagging ways of my off hours.

Maybe it's a backlash against being so friggin efficient at work...I go home, put on my stretchy pants and slip-ons, and I'm overcome by the seductive tentacles of that special slugdom known as "laying around watching crap television and smoking cigarettes." If I'm working around the apartment, simple things like mopping the floors can take all day. I'll mop the kitchen, then lay around and watch crap television and smoke cigarettes. Then I'll mop the living room, then lay around and watch crap television and smoke more cigarettes. Then I'll put on an old disco cd and sing along for awhile. Then I'll mop my dressing room, and lay around and watch crap television and smoke more cigarettes. Then I'll call one of my sisters and chat for an hour or so, watching crap television and smoking cigarettes the whole time...you get where this goes, right? The simple, 45-minute process of mopping my floors becomes a 3 hour marathon. Luckily, I'm an early riser, so I can finish this by noon and usually be sitting on the steps in Union Square by 1:30 or so, watching break dancers and smoking cigarettes.

What can I say? My life is one glamorous "Sex and the City" moment after another.

Anyhow, my next goal is to be one of those annoying people who files taxes on February 1st, 5 minutes after my W2 lands in my mailbox. I hate those people, don't you?

Of course, I'll probably manage to put off that goal for another 4 or 5 years.