procrastination technique #3.

crocheting.

The phone rings, I slip on the headset, sit down in a comfy chair and grab whatever's next to it that's half-complete, and get moving. There's a pile of scrubbies, a 5mm hook and a ton of cotton right next to the loveseat just outside the office: sc, ch3, sc. Two half-done multicoloured blankets in the living room beside the green chair, both with their own 6mm hooks and yarn in a basket: sc, ch2, sc - shake it up a bit when colours swap. A quilt-style throw (made of leftovers from fuzzy plush scarves made throughout the year as gifts) behind the TV, 10mm hook waiting: sc, sc, sc, sc, sc [...]. A ridiculously large (only the laundromat double-loader will wash it) sc many-coloured blanket added to whenever the urge hits that will probably never get itself finished folded right under it. A dresser full of yarn and patterns and hooks, mostly found on sale and donated by my mum or gramma.

It's not only the phone that prompts it - sometimes its sitting down to watch television, a rented movie or waiting for my turn to play a video game. It's an excuse to not be working on something "important," "pressing" or overdue; an alleviator of guilt for not being in front of the computer or having a book or notes or photocopied article or a student's paper (or, or, or) in hand. It is tangible production.

And it works for me. On a couple of levels.

The scrubbies end up being the best "thank-yous" in the universe when someone does something kind and/or unexpectedly generous - three wrapped around a bottle of wine, or five rolled tightly and tied with ribbon. They also make for very snail-mail-able gifts to faraway friends and relatives. Constantly having them on the make means always having something on-hand to give.

Blankets and scarves are usually made with a particular person in mind - my sister (whose old cat had a habit of eating anything crocheted), family, friends and their kids - usually people I'd like to hug on a regular basis but for whatever reason just can't.

Learning a new stitch is like learning a new skill, and that means a new project can be added to its own pile somewhere beside a comfy seat in the apartment.

And it makes me feel like even though the article isn't finished, the chapter isn't started, the editing is behind, the review is behind, the papers aren't marked, the conference paper still isn't right...I'm still doing something. And that that something has a purpose, a goal, a destination. And the piles of to-be-crocheted things around the apartment make the space look cozy and comfortable - so completely unlike the piles of papers and books and articles that pepper my office.

And there's nothing better than seeing a 16-year-old cat go snakey for moving yarn.