The sound of the typewriter gave me away. Throughout school, I waited until the final hours to write any papers I was assigned and my Mother always heard me typing.
Mom didn't approve of the process. We had the same conversation over and over again. "Why do you wait until the last minute?" I gave the question some thought. Was I practicing for the career I dreamed of as a sportswriter? Did I need the adrenaline rush of a tight deadline to write my best? "I don't know." I shrugged my shoulders. Mom shook her head.
Senior year arrived and I hadn't mended my ways. At the end of the semester, I got up early to finish my last paper. I heard the squeak of the stairs through the click of the keys. Mom was on her way up to my bedroom. She inched the door opened. This time, instead of a reprimand, she brought me a cup of coffee.
Do you procrastinate when it's time to write? What's your drink of choice when you write?
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