The idea of 'procrastination' as a topic relates to an event, or story, that happened to my husband David this week.
Events and stories happen to all of us in our lives every day and every week. And that is why I love my blog subject - Our Multi-story Lives. I love people's stories. These stories are the small units that build our lives; we learn from our stories in our own lives and in other people's lives.
In writing they call this validation. That is where we read about someone else's experiences and feelings and we realise that we are not the only ones who have felt that way, or had those experiences - happy, sad, terrifying, lonely, wonderful etc, or had those reactions to events. It validates us and how we feel about things, and we realise that we are not alone ... other people go through the same things. We all learn. Most of us eventually understand how others feel; we develop compassion and empathy.
A patient once told me that she had asked her elderly mother what had been the best 'age' in her long life. Her mother had said it was from the age of around forty years old until about seventy or so. She said that these years were her favourite as she still had energy and health to do whatever she wanted ... but unlike her earlier years - she also had wisdom.
I think that wisdom is the doorway to contentment, happiness and peace.
Wisdom comes from learning lessons through the experiences we have in our lives - our many stories and those of other people we know. We learn what is truly important in life ... and that is when we learn not to worry so much about appearances and what other people think and whether we are good enough - because we learn that we were always good enough.
We learn about things that truly matter: love, helping, compassion, forgiveness, tolerance, patience.
Well, the event or story which prompted the topic I chose for this week's blog relates to 'procrastination'. And as I said it is not my procrastination in this case - but my husband David's.
OK. I procrastinate too, of course, but that's another story.
For now I'll smugly tell the story of my husband and the embarrassing events that occurred with him this week.
First, as always, some backstory.
My husband and I are both doctors, but not the sort of doctors who are rich. Our children go to a public school, we have a mortgage, we don't frequent fancy restaurants ... or fancy anything much for that matter. Not that I'm complaining. I'm not. I'm very content and happy in my life.
However, as I've said before, I was a hospital registrar until my mid thirties and while our working hours were ridiculously long, we didn't earn much money. So for much of my working life I didn't accumulate much wealth. Most of my fellow registrars in the hospitals owned 20 year old cars and lived in rented flats and we mostly wore cheap clothes.
A fellow male registrar once quipped to me, in front of a room filled with my fellow registrars and nursing staff, all female in this case, "Oh, Robyn. Do you know that you wear the same three skirts and three jumpers everyday?" Unfortunately he wasn't exaggerating. I did.
Without missing a beat my retort was, "Well, Felix, that's because there are no attractive guys worth dressing up for around here in A&E!"
All the female staff nodded in agreement, laughed their heads off and gave 'high fives' and 'you said it, girl' comments all round. The afore mentioned male doctor didn't comment on my attire, or any other criticisms of my appearance ever again. Ha!
Although he had been right, as I said, about my clothes - or lack there of. And there actually were many attractive male doctors in the hospital. He was one of them; I was just teasing him. But like my colleagues we all had little money to even pay our mortgages or rents and food, let alone buy new clothes.
However, back to the back story. So my husband and I are not rolling in money, alas. We have a mortgage, we bulk bill in our clinic - which restricts our income, and we have four children... including two teenagers. Say no more - I hear you parents of teens say. Kids are expensive - especially teenagers.
So, for this reason my husband and I owned 20 year old cars until last year when we both finally bought a new and a near new car for David and myself, respectively.
It had got to the point where my husband would sometimes breakdown on the way to work and have to literally run to work. And I mean 'run' as he was now late for his first patient. He would then call me during the day and we would drive to his car after work, wherever it had broken down in some side street, and I'd jump start it, if I could, or he'd fix it in some other way - if some piece had fallen off or had broken, or his car would be towed.
Unfortunately my old 'rust bucket' of a car was no better.
David and I broke down on the way to a party last year while driving in my old car and we had to wait 2 hours for the RAA (Royal automobile association) and then a tow truck, to get home. What made the situation more awkward was that we were dressed in 1980's fancy dress for the 1980's themed party we had been going to.
I was wearing big shoulder pads, lurid bright colours , huge earrings and 'big' hair - Madonna style. David was worse - he had a black 'rocker - type' long hair wig, black lipstick, a black leather with metal studs dog collar around his neck (actually, did men wear those in the 1980's??), a black t-shirt and tight black leather pants.
We had some strange looks from the tow-truck drivers - even for a Saturday night we looked bizarre. Being aged in our 40's didn't help either. I'm sure that they thought we should know better. Either that or they thought we had early onset dementia ... or we just had really bad taste in clothes ?!
In all, my old car required three tows last year, along with even more RAA call outs. So the new cars were by no means an extravagance.
Another piece of relevant information, for the event that occurred this week, is the fact that we live on a fairly small 600 square meter block of land near a lovely beach in Adelaide, South Australia.
The beach is a five minute walk down the street. You can see the blue ocean from the end of our drive way. So of course we drive down to the beach. Five minutes! Who's got that sort of time or energy to walk down ?
For this reason instead of selling his old car immediately for scrap metal or a trade-in, David thought he'd park the old rusty pile out in the street in front of our house. He said that he could use the old car to drive down to the beach and that way his new car wouldn't get wet and sandy. He could also put the kayaks on the roof of the old car and not get his new car scratched.
It all sounded like a good idea at the time ... to him.
He ignored my advice to get rid of the old car when he got the new one. He disagreed with me when I said that the old car was an eye-sore in our pretty tree-lined street and a nuisance to other road users, especially me, to get around it.
However, it soon became clear that David would never use the old car to get to the beach as it constantly broke down or the battery was flat. And whenever I reminded him that he should get rid of it his standard response became, "Not today, I'm too busy."
I will admit that he was right about himself being busy. Computer games really do keep one very busy.
So weeks went by, and then months.
My requests for him to get rid of the car became known as 'nagging' or 'haranguing' him. So I mostly kept quiet on the subject.
Eight months passed and the car remained out in the street.
A couple of different strangers even knocked on our door during that time and said they'd heard from people in our neighbourhood, not even living in our street, that the car was unused and unwanted and could they take it or could they buy it.
The car had become infamous!
David told them both, 'no', as he said that he might still fix the car one day and use it for the beach.
That never happened. He was too busy.
Finally, last week something happened that forced him to move the heap of metallic junk from out on the street.
It happened last Thursday morning. I was walking passed his car when I noticed a folded piece of white paper wrapped in a small plastic bag stuck to his windshield. It was taped down onto the glass, so I pulled it off and opened it.
It was a letter from the council - dated Wednesday 26/3/14 10.30am. The letter was brief and formal and terse. It stated that it was illegal to park or abandon a car in a public place for more than 24 hours and if the car was not shifted within 24 hours it would be towed away and the owner, David, would be fined $315.
The time now was 9.30am on Thursday 27/3/14. David was at work and he now had one hour to move the old car or have it towed and get the fine. We both knew the battery was flat and the car couldn't be started.
I was filled with utter joy after reading this long over-due letter.
'Twenty-four hours in a public place !?' Were they kidding? Talk about an under-statement.
The car had been dumped out there for over eight months! I think the council were more than reasonable. Far more reasonable than they probably should have been.
Holding the letter I skipped into our house. I bounced over to the phone and with great enthusiasm I dialled David's mobile phone number.
He was between patients and in a hurry when he answered. "What is it?" he said annoyed at my phone call. "I'm busy!"
"Well the council are giving you 1 hour to move that old car from out the front," I trilled down the line, "or they'll tow it away and you'll be fined $315." I didn't even try to hide the happiness and the smugness in my voice.
Silence followed on the other end of the phone.
"What are you going to do?" I asked after a long pause.
"I'm thinking!" he said. His voice shrill and his words sounding panicked. "Help me think! You're on my side; remember?"
"Are you kidding," I responded. "I'm in no way on your side. I'm on the council's side. Good on them. About time!"
Finally, after short time to consider the situation, David decided to phone the council telephone number written on the letter and, after discussing his situation of being at work when we found the letter, the council staff agreed to give him an extra 12 hours grace period.
His 8 months of procrastination finally came to an end.
He moved the old car that night, after jump starting the engine. It has now disappeared from the street. Finally. I thanked the universe ... and the council.
You may well ask where did David finally shift his old car?
Good question.
It now sits on our front lawn - right outside our front door in our very small front yard.
David has promised me that he'll move it really soon.
Although he did promise that last week.
But he's been really busy!
* * *
Procrastination
The Oxford dictionary defines 'procrastination' - to delay or postpone action.
Procrastination has been defined elsewhere as - the practice of carrying out less urgent tasks in preference to more urgent ones,
Or, doing more pleasurable things in place of less pleasurable ones, therefore putting off impending tasks to a later time.
Psychologists have suggested that the 'pleasure principle' may be responsible for procrastination.
A person may prefer to avoid negative emotions and to delay stressful tasks.
The belief that one works best under pressure gives an additional incentive to postpone tasks.
Some psychologists think that in this way, procrastination is a type of 'coping mechanism' for the anxiety associated with starting or completing any task or decision.
I might add here that the term 'coping mechanism' does not always mean that it is a good coping mechanism.
The term 'maladaptive' coping mechanisms refers to behaviours which might help someone cope with emotional stress but they are not good for the person. For example: a person feeling stressed may try to cope by: - getting drunk, taking drugs, lashing out and punching people or screaming at them, or eating a whole 1kg tub of ice-cream ... with chocolate sauce and Oreo biscuits.
'Adaptive' coping mechanisms, on the other hand, help a person to cope with emotional stress without negative health outcomes. For example, feeling stressed a person may try to cope by - taking a walk, problem solving on paper, going for a run or a swim, or talking to a friend or family member about their worries.
So, in this sense, procrastination would probably be a 'maladaptive' coping mechanism.
Procrastination can result in stress, a sense of guilt and crisis, severe loss of personal productivity and social disapproval for not meeting responsibilities or commitments.
These feelings combined may lead to further procrastination.
It is considered normal for people to procrastinate to some degree. But it becomes a problem when it stops normal functioning of a person in their life.
One early study of 'academic procrastination' found that:
- 46% of subjects reported that they 'always' or 'nearly always' procrastinate on writing a paper.
- 30% procrastinate on studying for exams or reading weekly assignments.
- 25% of subjects said that procrastination was a problem for them.
- 60% said they'd like to reduce their procrastination ( and I'd guess the other 40% are either in denial or lying).
Psychologists have debated the causes of procrastination.
Studies do not show that procrastination is related to 'perfectionism'.
Studies have shown that procrastination is more related to:
- lack of self-confidence in the task or
- dislike of the task (boredom, apathy).
But most strongly procrastination is related to 'impulsiveness'.
'Impulsiveness' is linked to the personality trait 'conscientiousness'.
While 'perfectionism' is associated with anxiety and irrational beliefs and the personality trait 'neuroticism'.
So psychologists think that procrastination is not linked to 'neuroticism' but it is related to 'conscientiousness'.
I was at university studying Psychology about ten years ago, and the lecturers taught us that while employers in the past wanted psychologists to design tests to assess potential employees IQ levels - this was no longer the case. Employers now wanted psychologists to design tests to assess 'conscientiousness' levels rather than IQ in potential employees applying for jobs.
In many jobs a high IQ was not essential but conscientiousness is virtually always very important.
In fact it has been estimated that success in life is more related to EQ (emotional quotient) - qualities such as conscientiousness, perseverance, resilience, getting along with others, than IQ (intelligence quotient).
It has been estimated that EQ accounts for about 80% of success in life while IQ accounts for only about 20% of success.
We all know people who may not be Rhode scholars or top of their high schools or universities - but they have successful relationships with people, they have financial security, they enjoy their lives and their jobs and they may had even accumulated much wealth or built up a successful business.
Conversely, most of us know people who may have done very well at school or be members of MENSA - but they are unemployed or unsettled in their jobs and their lives and they feel unfulfilled and unhappy.
The physiology of 'conscientiousness' is thought to be linked to the 'pre-frontal cortex' of the brain (situated just under your forehead).
The 'pre-frontal cortex' is responsible for 'executive brain functions' such as planning, impulse control, and attention and it acts as a filter by decreasing distracting stimuli from other brain regions.
Damage or low activity in this area can reduce an individual's ability to filter out distracting stimuli - leading to poorer organisation, a loss of attention and increased 'procrastination'.
So what can we do to reduce or prevent procrastination?
Well known 'life coach' Martha Beck suggests the following:
1 - First admit it's there
2 - Focus on what is the most important tasks and relax on less important things, which means don't be too hard on yourself and expect yourself to do everything all at once.
3 - Set up reminders for yourself. Set two alarm clocks if you need to be at an appointment early. Put reminder notes on the fridge.
I will add here that I have only two magnets on my fridge:
One says: 'Real men do housework'. I don't think David's seen that one?! There is no sign yet that he's taken on board the fridge-magnet's wisdom or advice.
The second one says: 'If it wasn't for the last minute ... nothing would get done'. Unfortunately for me that is too true.
Back to Martha -
4 - Take small steps in your task (break a big task into lots of small steps - which are each quite easy to achieve as they are tiny steps).
5 - Have some fun with the work - dance, sing, have a few cups of coffee ... or any other beverages that may help you have fun... hopefully in moderation.
Martha suggests that people are most likely to procrastinate if they don't like the task and they fear failure.
They are likely to eventually or occasionally procrastinate if they either don't like the task but they don't fear failure, or they like the task but they also fear failure.
Procrastination is least likely to occur, she says, if you like the task and you don't fear failure.
With that in mind you could work out ways to enjoy the task more and reduce your worry about failing.
You can reduce your worry about 'failure' if you learn to believe in yourself and drop your expectations of perfection in the task. Doing the task just average is OK.
When I was at medical school - we med students had all been perfectionists and super high achievers at high school. However, we all learned that we needed to drop our expectations for really high grades at uni - as the other students were all clever and the work was really hard. Just passing became more than fine. So with this new mind set - a lower level of expectation for ourselves - the pressure on us lessened and the degree of stress we felt reduced as well. We all felt much better, more relaxed, probably procrastinated less with study, and we came to enjoyed uni and learning more.
A popular joke amongst medical students in my university year was: What do you call the medical student who graduates bottom of the class?
Answer: Doctor.
In other words - as long as you graduate - you're still a doctor! Grades don't matter that much.
Interestingly, the girl who was graduated top of our medical year - quit medicine altogether half way through her first resident year, and she never returned to medicine at all. She works in finance now.
Maybe it was harder for her to learn it was OK to make mistakes and often be just average.
So learning to be 'average' opens the door to less pressure and then less stress and more happiness.
If you set your bar of expectation for yourself really really high - most days you won't make the level you set yourself to achieve and you are likely to feel like a failure on most days and then feel miserable and feel like a failure in yourself.
However, if you set your bar of expectation quite low - most days you will more than achieve that level of expectation you have set for yourself and you will feel happy at your success in your achievements and happier in yourself.
You'll then more likely enjoy what you do ... and not be afraid of failure - as 'failure' is so much less likely with your new lowered expectations for yourself.
As Martha said - these were the two things that would most likely help you to get going on a task: enjoy the task and avoid fear of failure and ... hopefully then procrastination will be gone.
Voila .
Another trick to reducing procrastination is to ... just do it!
Long before Nike used this phrase as their slogan I used it everyday to get out of bed and go for a morning run.
Once I was out on the street running I was so glad I'd made the effort. I also found running reduced my levels of anxiety through the day and I felt happier and healthier.
As I lay in bed each morning, in my lovely warm and cosy bed, and I heard the wind howl outside my window, I'd let myself think about all the reasons I wouldn't run that day. However, as I had these convincing arguments going through my mind telling me to stay in bed ... I would just get out of bed, put my running shoes on, get into my shorts and go. I would just do it.
I never regretted it.
It has been suggested that people shouldn't wait to feel motivated to do a task.
Accept the negative feelings and focus on simple actions instead: jump out of bed, get shoes and shorts on, open the door and go.
Motivation will follow.
* * *
A short story of fiction about my topic: procrastination.
Tomorrow
I have a short story to write titled 'Tomorrow' ... which I will write the day after Tomorrow - actually, Sunday morning.
'Mum's duties' took me away from finishing my blog for this week - grocery shopping, orthodontist, dinner, bedtime stories, dishes... and so forth ... and somewhere my creativity went to sleep ahead of me, buried under a heavy load of tiredness. That's real life and work - for all of us.
The story is in my head and I hope you'll like it.
I have a 12 hour work day at our medical clinic tomorrow, Saturday - and I'll be brain dead after that. And I have a 12 hour work day on Monday as well - so that leaves lovely carefree Sunday morning to finish this weeks blog, before family things fill the rest of my day - happily.
Looking forward to Sunday.
You see I'm not procrastinating - because I'm so looking forward to writing again: I'm not afraid to fail and I love writing - the things we discussed in this blog to help avoid procrastination.
One last comment:
I read the following somewhere once:
Question: What would a writer do if they were told that they had only ten minutes left to live?
Answer: They would type faster!
Some might. I can think of many writers who wrote until their last breath, dying before they finished their last novel.
Writing is so much fun I think.
Take care everyone. Have a great weekend!
* * *
OK. It's 7am on Sunday morning. I'm up before the rest of the household. It is the only time today that the house will be quiet. Bliss.
Our family will be swimming at Adelaide's wonderful new Aquatic Centre pool in the suburb of Marion this morning. It will be today's event for our Sunday family outing, which we make a priority every week. A time that the six of us are all together and doing something fun.
Although, that does remind me of a Jerry Seinfeld quote:
He said, "There's no such thing as fun for all the family".
Actually, he's probably right. But we try anyway.
My 13 year old son and I will swim a kilometre in the larger colder pool, as we always do, and then we'll go and 'muck about' and relax with the other three kids, who can't be bothered doing laps. Although, Ollie is only four years old - so he does have an excuse, and David can't really swim. He's from Tasmania and swimming, especially outdoors, happens less there due to the colder weather.
For anyone not from Adelaide, our Aquatic centre pool is beautiful. Olympic swimmers come from all over Australia to this facility to do their 'time trial things' (insert official word for that) before the Olympics; plus it hosts many high level swimming competitions.
It is a huge facility with 6 different pool, a couple of diving towers, great coffee, and a large well equipped gym upstairs. A funny story about an embarrassing incident for me up in that gym last year springs to mind. Suffice to say I have never returned to the gym. But that is a story for another time. Oh, and my ankle is much better now.
* * *
So, speaking of stories, here as promised is my short story of fiction relating to this week's blog title of 'procrastination'.
Tomorrow
Jeremy walked along the city footpath. His gait was brisk and like many other young men in their mid twenties he seemed often in a hurry. He was on his way to have lunch at his favourite cafe. A ritual he followed every work-day. The cafe sat adjacent to an expansive park near to the Architectural firm where he worked as a junior architect.
He noticed how beautiful the park looked as he approached the Cafe de la Paix. It was the height of Summer and the huge oaks and willow trees looked majestic. Their foliage was lush and green. Masses of flowers splashed warm colours of orange and pink and red amongst the carpet of long grass which grew along the banks of the river. A few mothers with prams and a couple of men in suites wandered casually along the garden paths or sat on the numerous benches feeding ducks.
Arriving at the cafe Jeremy swung open the polished wooden door. Bounding in, his eyes quickly scanned the small room as he simultaneously tried to adjust his vision to the darker environment. There were about 15 tables covered with white linen tablecloths scattered through the modest interior. A wood and glass cake-display counter stood against the back corner and a large latticed window looked out over the park.
Jeremy, tall with dark curly short hair and a natural athletic frame, smiled brightly when he spotted her. She was sitting at a small wooden table near to the window. Their usual meeting spot. She was sipping her coffee and gazing out at the view.
He stopped briefly to admire her. Her name was Olivia. She was in her mid twenties like himself. Her hair was honey blonde and it reached just below her shoulders. She kept it pulled back off her face with clips during the week while she worked in her accounting practice nearby. Her dress was made of a soft floaty cotton: pink, knee-length and pulled in around her slim waist with a thin leather belt.
She was beautiful and Jeremy was in love with her. Although he hadn't told her that yet. In fact he hadn't even asked her out on a proper date.
He'd meant to. And he told himself that he would ask her out very soon.
He just wanted their first date to be perfect and memorable; so he needed to sort out a few things in his own life first. Things like smartening up his city apartment. It was a bit of a mess currently with chipped, second-hand furniture and peeling paint. He would buy a stylish lounge and a new dining suite and paint the place out, he thought. He certainly had enough money. He was well paid in his job. It was just a matter of getting around to doing these things. Life seemed always to be so busy.
Jeremy knew that he wasn't well organised and he knew that he had a tendency to leave things until the last minute. But, he reminded himself, he usually got things done eventually.
'Better late than never' was his motto.
Olivia and Jeremy had met six months earlier. It happened the day that they had both attempted to pick up the cafe's last newspaper to read over lunch. They had both insisted that the other one should take the paper and in the end Jeremy had bought it and given it to Olivia.
However, neither of them had read it that day. They had decided to share a table and when they found that they had so much in common they'd spent the rest of the lunch hour talking.
Since then three times a week, when they both were free for a longer lunch break, they had met and chatted over lunch for an hour. It was the thing that Jeremy most looked forward to in his whole week. They could talk endlessly about all sorts of fascinating and funny things and the time just flew by.
Jeremy was usually shy but with Olivia he knew that he became the best version of himself. Somehow her happy and warm personality and the fact they they shared so many ideas and interests meant that when he was with her he was never short of things to say. He felt so happy when they were together. More than at any other time in his life.
He'd noticed that in the last couple of months Olivia had always finished lunch by giving him a warm hug. He guessed that she probably felt something more than just friendship for him as well. He suspected that she probably wanted him to ask her out. And he would. Soon. However, he had a few things to sort out first ... and then they could date. Assuming, of course, that she said yes when he asked her.
After he had been standing admiring her for a few moments she looked over toward the door where he stood and she smiled when she saw him. He waved to her and gestured that he would just order his usual lunch from the counter: ham and cheese baguette with a flat white coffee. She laughed and waved back. She had teased him so often about being boring with his choice of lunch. Always the same and always so unadventurous. She had reminded him that there were many other lovely things on the menu. Ok, he'd promised her. One day soon he would order something different.
Jeremy brought his coffee and baguette over to their table and sat down.
"I've started already", she apologised holding up a half eaten sandwich. "I hope you don't mind. I've not been here long but I'll need to make this lunch a short one I'm afraid."
Jeremy tried not to show his disappointment. He waited silently for her to finish what she was saying.
"I've got to finish work early today as an old friend of my brother, actually he's also an old friend of mine, well he's moved to the city and I said I'd help him move his things into his new apartment. He was a school friend of my older brother, Jack. He used to come over to our house a lot when we were all teenagers". She smiled as she said this and for a moment Jeremy thought that she seemed lost in her memories.
Jeremy wasn't sure if he should feel worried. He wondered if this old friend might be interested in Olivia as more than just a friend now. Was he good looking, he wondered? Did he have some impressive job? A little voice in Jeremy's head reminded him that he really should ask Olivia out soon. Now, actually, would be a good time. She was so lovely and attractive and he knew that any guy would want to go out with her... and be lucky to call her their girlfriend.
He wanted to ask her out. He wanted to ... but the words. What would he say? He wasn't ready yet.
She was watching him now. Waiting for some sort of response. She seemed to be searching his face for some sort of reaction to what she had just said. He wondered if she was getting annoyed with him for not having the nerve to ask her out on a proper date after all this time. They clearly liked each other. She was the one who made a move by hugging him at the end of their lunches together. He knew that it was now up to him to make the next move. But he just wasn't ready yet, he thought. Not yet.
"That's kind of you", he finally responded. "I can help if you like. I could get out of work early and help you with your ... friend.
"No. That's fine. I don't think it will take that long. Anyway, I think it would be boring for you. All the old stories and people from my past that you won't know. "
Jeremy was somewhat relieved. He hadn't really wanted to help some stranger move into an apartment after a long day at work. Although, it would have been nice to ensure this old friend and Olivia didn't get too close and chummy.
He realised that he was getting paranoid and too possessive. Olivia was free to help an old friend move house without him getting jealous. Anyway, he reminded himself, he had no real claim on Olivia. They were not actually dating yet. And he knew who's fault that was.
It was soon time for Olivia to go. She picked up her handbag and her cardigan from the back of her chair, then bent down and put an arm around Jeremy's shoulders in a hug goodbye.
"Bye, Jeremy", she said as she skipped off. "See you Monday and have a nice weekend."
Jeremy remained in his seat. He had a strange feeling of foreboding. A voice deep inside told him that an important opportunity in his life was disappearing. A window was closing and he needed to act now if he truly wanted her and if he truly loved her.
He took another sip of coffee.
Monday came and Jeremy was the first one to arrive at the cafe. He ordered his usual lunch and watched out over the peaceful river bank. It was another warm sunny day with a deep azure blue sky.
Jeremy had missed Olivia in the two days since they'd last seen each other and he felt anxious to see her again.
Lost in his thoughts he was brought back into the moment when Olivia put her arm around his shoulders in a gentle welcoming hug.
"Hi," she said.
She then put her coffee cup and a plate of bolognese onto the table and hung her cardigan on the back of her chair.
She seemed a little unsettled today, Jeremy thought. In some way she seemed not quite her usual self. He thought he could see a tinge of sadness in her eyes.
"How did the moving go?" he asked.
"The what?"
"The moving. You helped that old friend move into his apartment on Friday night."
"Oh', she responded. "He was nice." She smiled as she realised the error in her response. Quickly she added, "I mean it was nice to help my help friend, Matthew. That was nice. His name's Matthew and it was nice to see him again."
She seemed flustered and quickly picked up her coffee and took a sip as if she wanted to stop herself from saying anything more for the moment.
After a short period of silence between them she put her cup down again. She then took a deep breath before continuing.
"Matthew asked me out ... and we went out to dinner a couple of times over the weekend. We had a very nice time." She spoke quickly and as she spoke she gazed out of the window, away from him, as if she was afraid to see his reaction.
He wasn't sure what he should say. He knew that this was probably a good time to tell her how he felt about her and to ask her out himself. He knew he should. But he... couldn't. Not yet.
When he didn't respond after a long silence she spoke again, her tone a little terse and her voice quieter. She was looking at him now.
"He's asked me out again tonight and he's asked me if I have a boyfriend."
She clutched the sides of her wooden chair tightly. Her body was tense and her breathing rapid and shallow. He sensed fear in her eyes as she appeared to search his face for some sort of emotion. Some sort of reaction to what she'd just said.
Jeremy stayed quiet. He hated himself for not jumping up and grabbing her hands and telling her how wonderful she was and how he'd wanted to ask her out for months ... but he didn't.
He hadn't decided on the right words and he'd wanted to ask her when he felt that more of his life in order. Also, what if she said no? What if his assumptions about her feelings were wrong?
He stayed silent and looked down at the dark wood grain of the jarrah floor.
She picked up her coffee, sighed quietly and looked out into the park. A tear formed in the corner of her eye and she quickly brushed it away.
She looked at him again. "I told him no, Jeremy" she sighed. " I told him no, I don't have a boyfriend."
Jeremy hated himself right now. He just couldn't find the words. He wasn't sure what he should do. In the past he'd always managed to get things done, eventually. Opportunities didn't just disappear. He had time to plan and be sure that in the right time he would get things right. Somehow he feared this time things may be different.
He decided that he needed to say something. Now. A window of opportunity was closing and in his mind he could hear a hard metal bolt slamming shut. A lock that would never open again.
She was his soul mate and the best friend he had ever had. He knew that.
He was shy and quiet; she was happy and outgoing and funny... and he loved her.
But the words. What to say? Quick, he thought. He'd never been good at quick.
His mind was in a panic. Ask her out, you fool! The words screamed out to him in his mind. But he couldn't. He couldn't find the right words to tell her how he felt? He needed time to think.
Suddenly, Olivia grabbed her bag and pushed her chair back so fast it almost fell over.
"I can't do this anymore, Jeremy." Tears ran down her cheeks freely now. She didn't wipe them away.
"I've got to go." She bent down and kissed his cheek and put her arm around his shoulders. She held onto him a little longer than she usually did.
"Goodbye, Jeremy" she whispered softly into his ear.
And with those last words she left.
Jeremy looked up as the door to the cafe closed behind her.
He felt empty. He was furious with himself. He thought what a complete coward and an idiot he was.
He looked at her half eaten meal and then noticed that she'd left her cardigan on the chair.
A small spark of hope reignited in him. She'd left her cardigan. He could return it to her. To her office. He could find her office. It was a local accounting firm. She'd told him so often about it.
He picked up the cardigan, left the table and strode to the door. He would find where she worked and take the cardigan to her that afternoon. He could apologise to her and ask her out today!
The afternoon was a very busy one for Jeremy. Before he could arrange to get to Olivia's office things got hectic at work. There were meetings all afternoon and Jeremy's boss gave him a big new project with a short deadline. He didn't get around to returning the cardigan as he'd planned to on that day.
He meant to return the cardigan to Olivia during the rest of the week but so many things kept getting in the way of doing it he didn't manage to find the time again.
Somehow days turned into weeks and then months. Jeremy returned to the cafe everyday in that time. But Olivia never came back.
It finally got to the point where Jeremy thought it was too late to return the cardigan. He thought that Olivia would be annoyed with him not just for not returning her cardigan sooner but also for not catching up with her to say sorry and for not following her to see how she was when she'd left him so upset at their last meeting.
Almost a year later Jeremy heard that Olivia had become engaged to be married to Matthew, her childhood friend, and the young couple had moved interstate. He never saw her again.
Ten years passed and Jeremy found himself again sitting at his usual table near the window of the cafe. A ham and cheese baguette and a cup of coffee sat on the white table cloth in front of him. His life had remained largely unchanged. He had been promoted to a top managerial position in his architectural firm, his dark hair was now peppered with grey and he'd gained a few pounds. Other than that nothing else much was different.
One thing that didn't change was that he'd never stopped loving Olivia. He'd never forgotten her and he'd never stopped regretting his cowardice and stupidity in not fighting for her and speaking up when he had the chance to all those years earlier.
He now looked out over the cold empty park. The trees were bare; their branches were black gnarled fingers reaching upwards to a heavy grey sky. The riverbank was muddy and bereft of colour. The flowers were gone for the Winter.
Jeremy knew that he should do something to change his life. He was lonely and he knew it was his own fault. He'd had so many opportunities in his life to find a partner and happiness. He was good looking. He had a prestigious and well paid job. He knew that he was a nice and decent man. Yet, he could not forgive himself for letting his soul mate go and he'd never found anyone to compare with Olivia.
He'd learned too late that some opportunities don't wait forever. A window of opportunity exists in some situations for only a relatively brief period of time and then it closes.
He took a sip of his coffee and at that moment he made a decision to change his life. And this time he would make sure he did it.
Olivia would never return. He knew that. But he was still young enough to find someone else. He could still have the family he'd always wanted: a wife, children, a home, Sunday family outings.
He would join a dating agency and find a nice girl with whom he could at least be friends and even, with luck, love her eventually. He would let the past go and be hopeful for the future.
He would stop procrastinating.
With renewed enthusiasm Jeremy left the cafe to return to his office.
He wanted to get started building his future as soon as possible. He would start today, he thought. He would start as soon as he got back to work. He'd sign up to a dating agency on-line that very day. No more delaying things.
He pulled his jacket around his chest as he strode up the icy street. He felt excited about what lay ahead for him.
However, as he walked he remembered that today was not really a great day to start. He had a few urgent phone calls he needed to make when he returned to work and there were a couple of big meetings during the afternoon.
A cold wind picked up, cutting through his thin jacket and sending a chill to his core. He pulled his collar up around his neck. His pace slowed.
He would definitely start the new plans ... but not today. Today was really busy. He would start tomorrow. Definitely tomorrow he reassured himself.
The End
A quick joke that a patient recently told me, before I leave my blog for this week:
I was reminded of this joke when I wrote the fiction story this week; the idea that men and women don't often understand each other.
The joke:
A man is given one wish by God.
He has a long think and decides that as he loves visiting Hawaii so much, but he lives in Australia, he would love a highway that stretches between Hawaii and Australia so he can drive to Hawaii whenever he wishes and not need to fly.
God says to him that the task of building a highway across a vast ocean would be very difficult and probably too large a task for one wish. God tells him the project would require millions on tonnes of cement and bitchumen plus millions of tonnes of steel railings. Furthermore the foundations and footings would need to be built deep into the ocean's floor miles under tonnes of sea water and the labour force required would be astronomical.
God suggests that the man needs to choose another easier wish.
The man considers this and then says,
"Well God, for my wish I would like to understand women."
God has a short think and then responds,
"Will that be one lane or two?"
* * *
I hope everyone has a lovely week and I'll write again next week.
Enjoy your coffee, or tea or whatever beverage you like, smell the roses, feel the sun on your face and live for each day and in the moment whenever you can.
PS:
If you liked this blog or found it helpful - please let others know - as it may be helpful to them or just a nice read.
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