The Sweet Sense of Later

Why does the internet seem so much more interesting when I have something else to do? I'm doing my research to decide about my character analysis for my writing class, but all of the sudden, as I try to decide if I'm going to do a real person or a fictional character, everything else seems so much more crucial. Do I really care how much fat is in a hamburger from Chili's versus some other giant chain restaurant when I don't even eat hamburgers and I stay away from chain restaurants? Do I really need to know if opposites attract or just pretend they do? Must I dwell on the cat nursing the puppies or the dumbest criminal in Philadelphia who mugs a cop in a bathroom stall in a hotel full of cops at a convention?

I mean, these are interesting items but two days ago when my assignment deadline wasn't looming, the same - pardon me - crap was out there and it wasn't nearly as interesting as it's been tonight.

I'm thinking Atticus Finch, because I love "To Kill a Mockingbird" but that's a little obvious. Maybe one of the more obscure fictional characters would be more intriguing. Or I could just do one about myself, and why, or how, procrastination seems to make my life more endearing to me. No, that's autobiography, that's next semester, if I stay with the program.

I do like having something to look forward to. Maybe it's that simple. Selma Rae says we should plan a vacation. But with the floorboards creaking in the fifth and sixth steps the way they are, I think we need to spend our hard earned money on more practical items.