That nasty little "P" word

That  nasty little word is procrastination (cue the omnious dun-dun-duuuuuun music).

I've known for at least 3 weeks that I needed to start packing for my trek across the country; however, not much got done because when packing, I would have to clean and the whole affair would become the worst chore ever recorded in history.

So...what did i do.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Now, I have to do everything at the last minute and it is affecting my health.  I stayed up until 330 am this morning trying to get myself and 2 children packed and squared away.  When I went to lie down, I didn't fall asleep for over an hr.  I am now up less than 5 hrs after I originally went to bed because I can't sleep.  I think I am having one continuous anxiety attack because I have this weird, nagging sensation in my chest like I'm going to have a heart attack.

No, I'm not going to have a heart attack.

However, since my vocabulary is limited and I do not possess the word that accurately describes the feeling, the term "heart attack" is just going to have to do.  Maybe like butterflies, but in my chest...no, that's much too nice a term.

Any way it goes, it sucks.

Have I learned my lesson...not likely.  Since I believe procrastination is something that you're born with, I'm stuck with it.

At about 3pm, I'm taking a sleeping pill and will try to get 7 hrs of sleep before I go pick up my spouse for our journey across this blessed land *rolling eyes*
I am not looking forward to it.