In Which I Dread Tomorrow

Ok, confession time: I'm a procrastinator. As in I'd-rather-get-a-root-canal-than-fold-laundry type procrastinator. Which might explain why there are two baskets of unfolded laundry and one dishearteningly large pile of unwashed laundry vegetating in my apartment. And it might also explain why I still have a bag left to unpack from the honeymoon (but it's a small one...minuscule, really). And it might also explain why I haven't called the management at our new apartment complex to make sure the application went through, and why I still don't have a notarized copy of the marriage license, and why I have no idea how to go about changing my last name.

And mostly, I'm okay with all the things I just mentioned because most of those things are at least marginally interesting, so I know that eventually, they'll get done. Well, except the laundry, which is not at all interesting, but eventually, we run out of underwear, which tends to be a pretty powerful motivator. But. There is one task that's so burdensome, so uninteresting, so completely UNSAVORY that I've conveniently managed to not think about it for about 4 months now. And that task is called "Writing my thesis proposal."

And today? Today is the very last day that I'll be able to not think about it because tomorrow, I have to go back to work and I know, I KNOW that the first question my advisor will ask me is "So...How's the proposal going?" And I'll have to make the shameful admission that in fact, it's not going anywhere. And that in my enthusiasm to avoid writing the thing, I've knitted 3 hats, 1 sweater, 1.25 blankets, and 1 mitten, and that I've cleaned rooms that don't need cleaning and bathed dogs that don't need bathing and in fact, that I've even gone so far as to START A BLOG. And then, if all goes as planned, I will step into the GIANT BLACK HOLE OF MY EMBARRASSMENT and fall into the center of the Earth.