Procrastination Emancipation

Written by Deborah Carraro

It's early January as I sit down to research and write this newsletter. I launch my web browser, surf over to, surprised to findrepparttar feature article displaying a picture of Santa Claus withrepparttar 118103 caption "It's not too late to have your presents arrive on time." Somebody's been procrastinating - either Bill Gates or me (maybe I didn't refresh my browser). Or maybe my computer is trying to give merepparttar 118104 hint to stop procrastinating and set aboutrepparttar 118105 task of writing this newsletter. Nah... Bill Gates must berepparttar 118106 guilty one!

When it comes to procrastination, most of us are quick to acknowledgerepparttar 118107 problem and are s...l...o...w... to do something about it. I surf over to and look uprepparttar 118108 definition of procrastination, hoping it means something other than I'm lazy.

pro·cras·ti·nate: v. intr. To put off doing something, especially out of habitual carelessness or laziness.

v. tr. To postpone or delay needlessly.

Hmmm... this is getting serious. I better stop shillyshallying and get some help. Didn't realize I was delaying needlessly.

Off I go in search of solutions to my problems. It doesn't matter that it's now lunch time - no point in delaying. Ignoring my grumbling stomach, I search relentlessly forrepparttar 118109 magic pill to make me stop procrastinating. You see, this isn'trepparttar 118110 first time I've procrastinated but I'm hoping it will berepparttar 118111 last.

Three hours later, I'm a procrastination expert. My eyes are blurry, my head is spinning but I'm committed to a ten step program to stop procrastinating. I have been freed from oppression - I have brokenrepparttar 118112 bonds and liberated myself fromrepparttar 118113 control of procrastination.

I hate my computer and other inspirational thoughts

Written by By Rev. James L. Snyder

The New Year has not started out very well for Yours Truly. Afterrepparttar first day ofrepparttar 118102 new year, my life went south forrepparttar 118103 rest ofrepparttar 118104 winter. All I can say is, I hope it has a wonderful winter, and don't forget to write.

Speaking of writing, I can sum up my feelings at this moment by saying, "I hate my computer."

Perhaps, you may thinkrepparttar 118105 word "hate" a little too strong. Under normal circumstances, I would agree wholeheartedly. These, however, are not normal circumstances by a long shot.

And, believe me, I've been tempted to do some shooting.

Usually, I'm good-natured, and easily get along with everyone around me. I go out of my way to be nice and courteous to people.

Atrepparttar 118106 grocery store, I always holdrepparttar 118107 door open for people; onrepparttar 118108 highway, I always yield torepparttar 118109 other driver, without employing hand gestures; and in a restaurant ,I always smile atrepparttar 118110 waitress, no matter how much she messes up my order.

However, everything and everyone has a limit — and I have reached my limit in this matter. The new near has barely gotten underway and already a snag has raised its ugly head in my direction and grinned. And boy, do I despise that grin.

This snag, to put it mildly, has to do with my computer. Oh, how I miss my old typewriter at times. It was such a faithful companion to me in my work. Rarely did it disappoint me or let me down. It always responded torepparttar 118111 slightest touch of my fingers.

Thenrepparttar 118112 sad day came when I traded my old reliable typewriter in for a computer. Atrepparttar 118113 time, I thought I had upgraded into heaven. I did not know I was setting myself up for a crash. How could I? Everyone told me a computer would solve all my problems.

Inrepparttar 118114 beginning, it lulled me into a false sense of competency. It actually made me believe I was in control of my computer. And, for a while, it looked like I was.

This past week I was working on several projects. With my computer, I can have three projects open atrepparttar 118115 same time and work on them simultaneously. I was working on my Sunday sermon, my weekly column and a fantastic article I was writing for a magazine.

I was in high heaven, going from one project to another and making wonderful progress. In fact, I was having such a great time that I forgot to save any of my work.

Several times during my work that afternoon I heard a mischievous snicker coming from somewhere, but I was having too much fun to pay attention to it. In hindsight, I should have stopped right there and ponderedrepparttar 118116 situation.

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