Anti-Procrastination Lessons

I hate calling people on the phone.  I have no recollection of anyone ever screaming at me or calling me names on the phone, so I can only attribute it to either an inherited phobia (I think my mom disliked it as well) or the three-minute phone call limit my dad enforced growing up.  Or maybe it's just one of those inexplicable quirks that afflict us all.  Anyway, this fear of dialing actually has an article in Wikipedia - "Telephone phobia," or the less severe variety of "Telephone anxiety."  Apparently numerous people, like me, enjoy talking to people on the phone, but vastly prefer being called to calling, to the point where we delay the dialing action as long as possible.

In the past, procrastination has paid off a few times.  I've put off calling for days or weeks, only to discover that I didn't need to call anyway, or I no longer need to make the call, or the person died or some such (Well, no, I don't think anyone ever actually died waiting for my call!).   But in the last couple of weeks, I have received two lessons in the value of punctuality, even in telephone calls.

As Aanna's wedding approached, it became clear that none of our family members would arrive at the farm before Friday.  Months ago, I reserved all three rooms of the tiny Bryant motel for Thursday through Saturday, in case we would need them.  I wrote on my list, "Call Bryant motel and cancel for Thursday."  Of course, the word "Call" at the beginning of the task ensured its placement at the bottom of my mental priorities.  From Saturday to Tuesday, I ignored the task.  Finally, on Tuesday evening, I Googled the number and dialed it.  "Ward Motel," Mary chirped.

I introduced myself and explained the situation.  "Can we cancel all three rooms for Thursday night?"

The chirp changed.  "Well, considering that a guy just called today and wanted to take all three rooms for tonight, Wednesday and Thursday..."

Appalled, I apologized profusely and bemoaned my procrastination.  Mary's tone softened after I assured her that we would pay for Thursday night, and also reiterated several times how very sorry I was that she lost out on the reservation.  For several days, the pit of my stomach felt hollow as I remembered the cost, not only to us, but to her, of my delay.

Packing up from the wedding, we forgot a keyboard damper pedal and the camera charger at Plain View Farm.  Of course, we realized this but didn't write it down.  Finally, last Saturday, I remembered them and thought, "I should text the Stadems and see if anyone is going to the farm."  Texting is easier for me than dialing, and I immediately sent a message to eight Stadems who might have been there.  Three minutes later, Tanya called me and said, "We are at the farm and were just in the truck ready to go home when I got your message.  What did you leave?"  Wow.

Will I learn my lesson?  I hope so!  Lord, have mercy...