Oh. My. God.

I have a secret to confess.

I've postponed the submission deadline for an article for more than 1 month! And actually TWO!

Ugh... I think my stress threshold has become lower than before ever since I've gotten this brain-cell-killing writer job. Even though I won't, you know, shut down whenever I get showered by all these, but one huge part of me would go like Crap, can I just continue with my facebooking a little longer?

I just didn't want to START! And the continual excuse that I've given to myself is that I cannot handle deadlines. Which is totally CRAP!

"I thought you like to work against deadlines?" Tammy asked with ardor when she saw me grumbling about deadlines.

Oh well...

What? What?? I wanted to come out with an impressive and smart answer (as always, blek!) but my head was awfully blank.

And irony has no torment great enough, it actually drew and hauled me along to the memory lane, where I self-proclaimed a big fan of all bloody deadlines. "Oh I feel achieved everytime I conquer 'em, ya know?"

Uh-uh.

Let me just tell you now, my LOVE for deadlines has been ceased by reality. The reality that I love to SLACK, and the reality that I am a last-minute person!

I know I can no longer bask in old glory, telling you people about how my last-minute saved my ass from all the final papers before, because today, the twin devils of procrastination and distraction are occupying my mind happily, eating my brain cells bit by bit. Ugh, I am terminal.

And if you must know, I have a traveling column due next week, and I haven't laid my fingers on it. YET.

Okay, I hate myself.