The jury is in

I have recently been served with irrefutable evidence, proving I have serious cases of both denial and procrastination. I think the two fit nicely together. Afterall, isn’t procrastination a five syllable word for actively denying that I am responsible for getting anything done?

What is this evidence? A scarf. Yes, a scarf. I am doing laundry and I come across a scarf I paid too much money for. After wearing it to a wedding a couple weeks ago, it had to be washed. In case you weren’t already aware, California + Summer + middle of fucking nowhere + outdoor wedding = your scarf needs to be washed. It’s a white scarf, made of delicate fabric, intricate weaving and tassles for that added flair. Really, I assure you, it’s not as offensive as it sounds. Anyway, I’m gathering my laundry and this lovely thing is in the pile. In my head, I know full well that this thing needs to be dry cleaned, or at least hand washed. Whatever it needs to reach its full cleanliness potential, being put in a load of mixed colors on the hottest, least delicate cycle is the very last thing it needs. But I do not give up. No. I have a can do attitude and I will not let logic or common laundry sense dash my hopes. No, I am in full denial mode and I am going to find a reason to justify it, dammit.

So I proceed to check for tags that will tell me the scarf is made to endure the same treatment as old granny panties. The mixier, less delicate and hotter the cycle the better, it will just make the scarf stronger and whiter. Of course I see no such tags, or any tags for that matter. I guess the manufacture didn’t see the need to waste time or resources on providing the buyer with instructional care tags because it is fucking OBVIOUS that this scarf is delicate and needs to be treated as such. Mind you, I KNOW this already. But that is the beauty of someone in denial, knowledge is marginal to instant gratification. In this case the instant gratification is not having to add anything to my extensive to-do list. Let’s jump ahead a few minutes. I come to my senses and do not wash the scarf with the rest of the laundry. I realize in all the time I’ve wasted, not wanting to wash the damn thing, it could already be drip drying in my bathroom. And two weeks later it is still waiting to be handwashed. Ahh, the sweet high of powdery procrastination laced with the power of denial.