A Fine Wine

I thought that my procrastination approach to life would be something that I would grow out of, so to speak. A maturation. A cutting of teeth.
I thought that organization would be something that would dawn on me one day.
"Oh. This is how it works. You complete things on time by preparing for them. I guess I'll go buy a file cabinet, then."
You know. A celebratory one.
But it does not work that way.
Instead, procrastination is something that you develop.
Like an art. Or a cyst.
My paper will not be completed tonight.
My paper will be completed tomorrow morning. Over much coffee and exasperation.
Just the way I like it.