I'm a world class procrastinator. In fact, if there was an Olympic event in procrastination, I wouldn't get around to applying.
Given my procrastinatory tendencies, it's not surprising that I've been avoiding setting an actual end date to my victory lap here in Toronto. But yesterday, I finally booked my ticket back to Vancouver. I was proud! And then, a little sad.
An aside: I have to point out here that it's not like I don't horribly miss my beaverancée. I mean, holy shit. She was just here for two days. I'll be home in 12 days. And yet, I am a sniffling mess. My roommate Deye singing beautiful soaring opera upstairs and this news (via Syd) is not helping.
It's true that deciding to become dope-smoking West Coast hippie freaks last summer was an exciting move for Katr and I. But as you can imagine, it felt like LESS of a big deal to ME because I knew I'd be back here for 16 weeks! Living the playwright-in-residence dream! Eating Swiss Chalet for every meal! Having many coffee dates! Taking my pants off in the homes of strangers . . . AND friends! And it has been so. Of course, I realize now that the promise of the victory lap was in fact just another way of procrastinating - you know, EMOTIONALLY. And I'm rapidly getting back in touch with my deep, deep fear of change. Feels good.
Whenever I fear change, I always employ the ingenious reverse psychology move my mother used to get me to leave kindergarten: Would I rather that we hadn't left Toronto at all? Well, no. We were ready for adventure! And a hypothetical dog! Would I like to move back to Toronto now? What? And give up our balconies and hypothetical dog? No! Did you already finish that giant bag of Bridge Mix you bought on Monday? Well . . . yes, but there were circumstances. And so on.
My other (less healthy) strategy for avoiding full-on meltdown in the face of change is to offer myself a pile of delicious procrastinatory nuggets to chew over when the fear is at its most acute. I like a good mix of practical and fantasy nuggets. A sample:
- "Well, it's not OFFICIAL official until I change my Toronto cellphone number!"
- "We're getting gay married in Toronto in November! I'll see everyone then!"
- "Maybe some theatre company here will produce my lesbonic historical fiction play! To great acclaim! And then Gina Torres will call me!"
- "Katr comes to Toronto on business all the time! Maybe someone will ask ME to speak at a conference! A pantslessness conference! Yeah!"
- "Maybe someone will open a Swiss Chalet in Vancouver that delivers!"
I know, I know - we all have dreams. But hey - whatever gets you through, right? So anyway - the point is that the countdown has begun. And I will greatly, GREATLY miss all of my wonderful Toronto friends and countless other things about Toronto, but I will strive not be downhearted! I have a beaverancée to snuggle up to in 12 days! And a hypothetical dog to think about! And a pantslessness conference to plan! Oh, ha ha, and a wedding! And I have to practice not screaming when Gina Torres calls! And let's not forget my Olympic training! Which I am totally starting tomorrow.
