An Apology To My Superiors

I cannot meet a deadline.

You all know this by now. Whether I've missed one scheduled submission, or whether I agreed to a project and then disappeared, I've done it all. You might be wondering why or you might not even care. You may have actually written me off by this time.

I procrastinate. Habitually. I will dive into a video game for hours, or get lost in the depths of Wikipedia, or (since I'm on an honest streak) indulge my taste for porn. I do it as a reaction against work. I boot up my word processor, get ready to hammer down some paragraphs, and then instinctively turn to a distraction. I have to practice great self control to keep myself on task.

I used to write a lot, back in high school and university. Back then writing was my procrastination; I would scribble notes during boring lectures and compose game mechanics during lab work. I thought my creative output would increase after university, but I can see now why it hasn't. Rather than being my escape from work, writing has become the work. It is now what I escape from, rather than the escape itself.

There really are no excuses for this. I am not expecting any understanding or pity. I do not have a condition. It is a character flaw that I am working to correct.

To those of you who have asked me for work and received nothing, I sincerely apologize. Today I begin to rectify these mistakes; today I finish what I've started.