I am doing my laundry.  

My fuzzy puppy is curled up next to my bedroom door, sniffing at the tiny crack in the frame, whining sporadically and softly to be let out into the world.  

I am listening to Ingrid Michaelson and T-Pain, a sick combination.  

I am thinking about doing my homework.  

But I am also thinking about watching ‘Gone With the Wind.’  

I am going to my first heavy metal concert tonight with a friend from work.  

I am nervous, because heavy metal is new to me and I don’t know exactly what to expect.  But I am excited because I love experiencing new things.  

I need to go to the bank to deposit some checks.  

I need to practice parallel parking.  

I need to get excited about school; to find something, anything, that gets me revved and ready to go downtown three times a week and to work hard.  Maybe it’s that boy I met in English.  Or that girl I met in Bio lab.  

I need to hang my new mirror up.  It’s huge and it’s been sitting at the foot of my bed, unhung, for a few weeks now.  

I need my license.  I need it so badly.  Why can’t I practice parking more?  

What’s keeping me from doing the things I need to get done?  What makes me choose a movie over homework, blogging over laundry, work over school, anything over parallel parking?  

Even things I love to do, like write, I procrastinate on.  

I think it comes down to fear of failure.  If I don’t ever do what needs to get done or do the things I love, there’s no chance of failure.  

Or there’s every chance, because they won’t in fact get done.  

I’m confusing myself.  I need to get back to laundry.  

And keep breathing.  

I won’t think about these things today, I’ll think about them tomorrow.  

Because tomorrow is another day.