I’VE BEEN procrastinating.
I have 52 things to do, but I’m not doing them.
I sometimes blame the weather.
I blame other people, and their can’t-do attitude.
I blame good books that refuse to be put down.
***
I’ve been postponing things while banking on my strength to do things excellently fast on the last minute.
As proven by my history of last-minute packing.
As proven by my once a month general room cleaning.
By my ability to write a play in three days.
Or even write a Palanca-worthy story in less than 36 hours.
***
And then, there is the I-don’t-know-where-to-start dilemma.
I got two rooms at our ancestral house at this time.
My penthouse room has all the balikbayan boxes containing most of my books, clothes, and knick-knacks from my life in America.
The boxes are gathering dust.
There’s a bamboo bed in the penthouse, and I like sleeping there when I wake up in the middle of the night, and couldn’t get back to sleep in the same bed.
***
The other room I occupy is on the second floor.
There’s a queen bed there, but I’m occupying only about a third of it.
The room has a closet, but it is full of my fancier clothes.
There’s a rattan furniture set, but it’s littered with books and everyday clothes.
There’s a table (to match the rattan chairs), but it’s also occupied by books.
There are at least 365 books in that room right now.
***
There are a few cabinets in the room.
They are filled with my supply of Spam, Nescafé, Hershey’s, Froot Loops.
While I share my food with the family, I keep my own stash as for when I finally live alone in either La Choza or Casa Dom Pedro.
***
On the queen bed, and on the console table are various documents: identification papers, tax documents, recent letters, official communications, application letters, et cetera.
I bought several plastic folders a few days ago, various colors for coding.
The idea of organization is great.
If only I get to do it.
Still on the bed are books in various stages of unread.
Because I actually read several books at once.
Perhaps also on the bed are new acquisitions, secondhand books from BookSale.
***
And then, there are scarves, beanies, hoodies, shorts, shirts.
I sometimes plan what to wear for certain occasions.
Then, when I see myself in the wall-to-wall mirror, I change my mind.
I pull out more clothes, try them on, and I wouldn’t have the time to put them back before I go.
I lay them on the bed with the good intention of arranging them back when I get home.
And of course, that hardly ever happens.
***
Sad, but true: That queen-sized bed in my current room is a catchall of everything I want to organize, and put back in the proper places where they belong.
***
What causes this laziness in me?
Well, firstly, the idea that I will be doing the menial job of cleaning a room.
I mean, my mother and brother have other people cleaning their rooms.
I refuse other people to touch my things.
Maybe because I have stashes of cash everywhere.
Sometimes, P1,000 used as bookmarks in between pages of the books I’m reading.
Also, there is at least P2,000 in every bag I own, just in case I grab them, and run.
***
But, believe it or not, I know where my stuff are in a messy room.
My room looks messy, but it’s pretty organized for me.
I mean, it will be hard for thieves to find the right stuff there, but that is not my problem.
Still, I want to organize my room one of these days.
I just want the right time to do it.
Not too gloomy to be lazy.
Not too hot to be lazy.
***
Oh, if only such a perfect day is not spent on coffee and books.
Not spent on visiting the sick, the poor, the widows and spinsters.
Not spent with friends for bonding and good time.
Not spent on prancing around town smiling, and greeting everybody with a nod or a short exchange of words.
I like to organize my room, but it doesn’t feel like a priority./PN
