The Curse of Scarlette O'Hara

Gone With the Wind is my favorite movie of all time. I saw it for the first time when I was in middle school. My literature teacher told us that it was her favorite movie. She showed it to us while she was grading our book reports. I was so impressed b/c each time a written narration would scroll across the screen, she would recite it from memory without even looking up from her desk. I have seen it a thousand times since then, but still haven't gotten those parts stored in my memory yet. Anyhow, since the first time I ever saw the movie, Scarlett O'Hara has been my hero. My mother has always said that this is because I have the same attitude as she does. Her whole life's philosophy is "I'll just think about that tomorrow. After all, tomorrow is another day." That pretty much sums me up.

When I was in high school, I didn't really notice how badly I procrastinated. However, in college, the severity of my procrastination hit me full force. I procrastinated all the time. I put off studying, projects, papers, cleaning, work-related tasks, laundry, and whatever else popped up. I would do anything in the world that I thought would keep me from doing what needed to be done. I would hang out with friends outside in the "smoker's circle," take a nap, watch television, hang out in a friend's room, anything to keep from doing what needed to be done. The result was always disastrous. I would inevitably loose an entire night of sleep trying to finish papers or projects, or trying to cram for a test. Meaning, of course, that I would not make the caliber grades that I was capable of making. Once during Finals week, I was up all night finishing a paper and cramming for an exam. I took an hour long nap before the first exam and almost slept through it. The exam started at 8 and I got up at 9. Thankfully, I lived on campus, so I just grabbed a pencil and ran across the street. My professor was not happy with me, but let me take the test and I made a "B." I have tons more stories just like that one; entire Saturdays spent doing nothing but laundry and dishes that had piled up for a month, etc. Now that I'm all grown up, my desk at work is always piled up with paperwork that I always find a reason not to work on. I push bigger issues to the last minute.

I have always just blamed it on "being a procrastinator," and claim that "I work better under pressure." Until last night. I was on my way home and I heard an "Intelligence For Your Life" segment by John Tesh. "Is procrastinator your middle name," he asked. Yes. "If you answered 'yes,' listen up." He went on to explain a study that he had read. Occasionally postponing a task is not classified as "procrastination" unless it becomes habitual. Uh, hello... can we say "Stacy..." And although procrastinators bring stress upon themselves before they tackle situations, apparently their action adversely effect others as well. I mean, seriously, how many people have missed the first few minutes of the movie, or been late to dinner or church or anything else because of me? A countless number of people really. As soon as I got my driver's license, my entire family would leave for church while I was still standing in front of the mirror fixing my hair and putting on my makeup. As John continued with the story, he said that procrastinators don't put off tasks on purpose. There are several reasons why they do, but the most common factor in all procrastinators is the "Tomorrow is another day" philosophy. WHOA!!! Ouch... Ok, John, now I'm listening... According to the research, it seems that procrastinators have, get this, an underlying emotional issue in which they feel that coping with major decisions or tasks is too important to handle incorrectly. Therefore, they put it off as long as possible in a misguided effort to "do it when they can do it correctly."

Has something ever hit you so hard that it almost took your breath? When I heard all of that last night, my jaw dropped and I slapped my hand to my forehead and couldn't move it for a minute or two. Damn you, Scarlett. What have you done to me? I mean, I consider myself to be a "normal" person with very few issues. I know I have some issues, but I don't think I've ever before considered my procrastination issues to go that deep into my psyche. It all hit home a little too hard.

And another curse from Miss Scarlett... my overwhelming beauty and charm. Sometimes the burden is almost too much to bear. But what's a girl to do? That was a joke, but this is a true story: This morning before work I had to go to the home of a lady from my church. Her dad had a stroke yesterday; I have a key to her house and I had to run over there and pick up a few things and do a few things for her while she's out of town with her family. She had told me that the pest control guy was coming to do the annual termite inspection. I was hoping to be gone before he got there, but no such luck. Just as I was about to reach the back door, the doorbell rang at the front door. I knew it would be the bug man, so I answered the door. There's the guy, "Good morning, ma'am. How are you?" "I'm fine thanks." "I'm here to do - Well, hey! How are you?!" I was beginning to think he might have a problem or something, you know, where he repeats everything without knowing it - like "Ten Second Tom" in that movie 50 First Dates. I must have looked at him like he had lost his ever-loving mind because then he said, "You don't know me, do you?" I looked at him and thought for a minute. Finally, I recognized him. I went to high school with him and sat right next him during Graduation. That was nine years ago, and I haven't seen him one time since then until this morning. We did the small-talk thing for a few minutes, I explained why I was there, and then I was on my way. As I was getting in my car, he came out of the garage, and we talked some more. This time a little more in depth about our lives over the past nine years. He's married with two kids. I'm not. Etc. Then he asked if I was a "party-girl." I told him that back in the day, I was the party, but these days I've settled down and live a pretty boring life. Then he says, "That's too bad. I mean, here we are with all this spare time, and this big empty house all to ourselves. What are we gonna do with it?" "Leave it." I said. And I did. Not that quickly, but after a few times of him saying such things I got fed up and left. As I was driving away, two thoughts went through my head. 1. I sure wish that I knew his wife so I could call her and tell her what a pig she married. And, 2. Yep, I still got it.