I maintain that life is merely the procrastination of death. So to me, procrastination is not inherently a bad thing.

I'm not talking about missing deadlines (bad) or letting people down (also bad). I'm talking about simply opting to put certain tasks off for a bit. Until the flames of an encroaching deadline burn a bit hotter, gifting me with greater fervor and efficiency.

From what I can tell, if we look to the Latin, procrastination technically means to put something off from one day to another, with "pro" meaning "forward" and "crastinus" meaning "of tomorrow."

But a skilled procrastinator (👋) might put something off for only a couple of hours. Or possibly a couple of days. Ideally, you put a task off until precisely the point when you have to get going on it to complete it on time (and well). If you're like me, your subconscious knows exactly—miraculously—when this moment is.

Procrastination has all sorts of judgy connotations. As Merriam-Webster puts it, "It typically implies blameworthy delay especially through laziness or apathy."

I'm here to tell you different. Done right, procrastination can increase productivity and improve quality of life.

​I began discovering this in college, when I found myself reading one assigned book to avoid reading another one. I was still getting things done, just not in the most linear way.

Today, my procrastination game is strong. I will vacuum rather than work on taxes. I will record my expenses rather than writing a brochure. I will create social media posts instead of writing a blog.

But eventually (as you can see), I will write that blog. I will meet my deadlines. I will get everything done, in good time, in the most procrastinabulous way.

Yesterday, early in the morning, my boss told me to take the day off.

My boss, of course, is me.

I decided I would do three things:

• Enjoy the wonderful weather.
• Get some exercise by taking a long walk.
• Figure out how to use the regional bus system to get to and from Denver (22 miles from my home).

Since I have a membership at the Denver Art Museum, I made that my destination. They have a fabulous exhibition of Rembrandt's prints right now. And although I'd been to it, I hadn't been able to see it all during my first visit.

​And so, using three different apps, I managed to get down to Union Station using public transportation. (Yes, I did get on the wrong bus initially, but it all worked out.) I took a nice long walk from the station to the museum. Ahhh—just what I wanted.

The museum has a studio where you can make your own prints right now—to complement the Rembrandt exhibit. Printmaking is something I've always wanted to explore, as I've found the whole process sort of mysterious and confusing. The previous time I'd been at the museum, I'd made this print using just a sheet of styrofoam and the tip of a pencil. (Hold your applause.)

Yesterday, when I returned to the museum, I ended up going straight back into the studio. Rembrandt can wait, I thought. I'm going to carve a linoleum print.

I was the first studio visitor of the day, and I got right to work. Again, I drew a simple bird surrounded by foliage. But unlike the styrofoam print, this time, I would need to carve out everything I did *not* want to make an imprint on the paper. And so began a remarkably tricky and time-consuming process of carving linoleum.

I don't think I raised my head once while I worked.

I heard mothers and small children and teenagers and senior citizens come in, make projects, and leave. I heard a tiny person demonstrate her fatigue with several tantrums. I heard a young girl talk about her tricky science project, involving planets and styrofoam spheres. I kept working.

Even though I overheard several warnings about the sharpness of the carving tools. I started to find them insufficiently sharp. Sometimes they seemed to be tearing the linoleum more than cutting it. But I persevered.

I heard people talk about getting lunch. I knew I should eat something. But I couldn't stop.

At long, long last, I felt like my carving was complete. I chose a paint color, applied it to my linoleum, and made a few prints. I hung one up to dry. I looked at the time—I'd been at it for FOUR HOURS.

It was the wonderful David Rakoff who taught me about this phenomenon of unbroken focus in a piece he did for This American Life called "Martha, My Dear." He introduced me to ​Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi and the concept of "flow." Flow is that sensation that's part absorption, part determination, and part hypnosis. It's when you're exactly where you want to be, doing precisely what you want to be doing. And happily, it's how I spent my day off.

​To leave or read comments, just click on the red "comments" link at the top of this post.

As a freelance copywriter, I hear this career advice over and over: "You have to have a niche." To which a voice inside my head whines, "But I don't waaaaaaant to have a niche." (I can't even decide whether I want to pronounce that word "nitch" or "neesh." Please don't make me commit my entire career to one skinny vertical.)

Here's the thing. When it comes to effective advertising and marketing, it's really all the same: You are communicating with human beings. First, you identify what your target customer cares about: What do they yearn for? What are they anxious about? What hurdles do they face? You figure out how [insert product or service here] will improve this target customer's life. How will it eliminate their headaches? How will it save them time, money, or effort? And how will they know that it's the best solution, both before and after their purchase? And how can you get your message across to them in a way that resonates?

I've advertised mutual funds and wedding cakes. I've marketed private schools to discriminating families and washing machines to laundromat owners. B2B, B2C, healthcare, software, décor, travel—you name it, I've probably done it. And if I haven't, I feel certain that I could.

But recently, I do keep asking myself: What do I enjoy working on? And who do I enjoy working with? And here, I'm beginning to sense some discrimination.

With such musing, I experience a certain kind of delight: the same one I relish whenever I have my eyes examined at the optometrist's office. "Which is better," the doctor asks me as I peer through various lenses at the letters on the eye chart. "This? Or this?" "Is it better now? Or now?"

I absolutely LOVE that part of eye exams. I love considering the two competing options, occasionally asking to see them again, and then announcing my answer with confidence. And I love knowing that with every honest, accurate declaration, I am getting one step closer to a vision prescription that is going to improve my life.

Similarly, I may be narrowing my freelancing focus just a teeny bit. My interests remain broad, admittedly, but I'm beginning to ask myself the question "Which is better?" more frequently. And giving more consideration to every answer. I can't wait to see what kind of career prescription I end up with.

Ignite. Have you ever heard of Ignite events? Presenters are given exactly five minutes to speak. They prepare 20 slides, which advance automatically every 15 seconds. The result is a very fast-paced, high-energy talk. I decided to speak about eggcorns, and I had a blast. We'll hope this tweet by Julie T. Ewald was honest, and that it went well.

​Austin. This is my favorite part of Texas—funky, flavorful, and fun.

Neato know-how. Ohmygosh, where to begin with the knowledge I gained? I learned about all kinds of great apps like UNUM, Smarthash, LastPass, and Appear.in. Some, like Evernote and Zapier, I'd known about, but now I'm fired up about their functionality. I also got ideas about using social media, finding new business, gaining efficiency, and more.

The chance to travel! I absolutely love going new places. And it's dawning on me that freelancing can afford me this opportunity. This trip really whetted my appetite, and a presentation at the conference by Alicia White called "Speak to Grow Your Business" is fueling a fantasy of mine to start speaking at various events.

​So stay tuned, and we'll see where the freelance life takes me next!

I've been attending a nifty little series hosted by AIGA Colorado for freelancers and entrepreneurs. Last night, the topic was "Workspace Matters," and the panel of speakers discussed coworking spaces, work habits, and the like.

At the conclusion, the moderator asked us to assess our own working spaces. And so I will.

Many days, I commute a whopping two miles to a fabulous coworking space called Confluence. I take advantage of their "hotdesk" membership, which lets me grab any open spot in a lovely central room. Confluence has free parking (though I may start biking or walking), a great kitchen and dining area, and complimentary coffee, soft drinks, and yes, beer. They host social/networking events where all of the members can get to know one another and learn what each of us does for work. We're going to start doing some volunteer work together, too. Possibly my favorite part about Confluence is the book club they hold every three weeks. To me, nothing beats a good book club, particularly one taking place about 20 paces from where I work. So my assessment of my coworking office is A-double-plus.

Now, some days (like today), I work from home. I love my home office, too. I can nap and fold laundry as needed, and I can work whenever I like—including before sunrise.

The central feature of my home office is my coworker, who shares an office chair with me. Little Guy is a chiweenie (chihuahua + dachshund) who loves to snooze on an old sleeping bag directly behind my back. My husband is chagrined by the ergonomic implications of the way I sit and implores me to invest in an Aeron chair. But if I were to do that, I think I'd have to keep Little Guy and his claws off of it, and I don't think I could bear it. I mean, really: could you?

​

As it turns out, I've been married for 25 years (in a row, to the same man). Consequently, I've never experimented with OkCupid, Tinder, and the like. So when I recently discovered the app called Shapr, it was a real novelty to me. 

Shapr (a name that evokes a workout plan, in my opinion) lets professionals introduce themselves to other professionals who might make good business partners or clients. (As a copywriter, I'm on the lookout for freelance designers and folks with marketing needs.) The app Bumble has a similar feature called Bumble Bizz, but it also offers modes that cater to dating and friendship.

ANYway. As an utter newbie to this swiping business, I have occasionally swiped right by mistake (the horror!), and it took me a while to realize that reciprocal interest was required for an introduction. But I am learning!

I've had two face-to-face meetups this week, and they've been wonderful. I've really enjoyed the interactions, and I believe I might actually get some good business and possibly friendship out of the deal.

So, though I'm new to the swiping game, I'm happy to be here.