My ability to cram things in at the last moment has not lessened. Equally, my ability to get things done ahead of schedule has not improved. This is something that I thought I might mature into, that would come with age- a lesson I’d hoped I would learn and actually convert into future good decisions. But here I am- same as I ever was, pursuing pleasure like it’s my job. Enjoying the last drop of wine in the glass; getting my hair wet at the beach and floating in the salty water; watching sunlight creep across the floor of my room, signalling a final few minutes of warm skin in a shared bed.
It’s both detrimental to my productivity, and an innate component of myself that I’m coming to terms with. It will probably always be part of me- part hedonist, part masochist. Seeking pleasure, craving the outcome, knowing the consequences . I’ll never outgrow that.
