Procrastination may be my one true gift. I’m one of those go-getters who, when the going gets tough and a job needs to get done, will find something else to do. Even the smallest thing, like making a cup of tea or providing my child with medication, can be delayed by some dreamy fantasy in my own head.
I have long suspected that such behaviour is indicative of a deeper rot than mere task-avoidance. Now Simon May arrives to confirm my worst fears.
