76. Putting it off til the Last Minute

I'm having trouble, my loves. I keep not writing and not writing each day, until it's late and I feel bad. I think I wrote a sonnet about this just a couple days ago, and now I'm doing it again. Why? Because I put off doing it until after I should have had it up already. I'm a bad person and I ask your forgiveness.

This picture doesn't have a lot to do with what I'm talking about,
 except as an example of the things I'm doing instead of writing.

Good lord. This sonnet's going up quite late.

It's happening more often, now we're back.

There's fun to have and friend-talk lusts to sate;

I find it hard to keep on writing track.

I mentioned this before, and still it's true:

I need some discipline to schedule writing,

someone to crack the whip and make me do

this thing I love, enforce a time of hiding.

Perhaps a couple hours set aside

each day with none allowed to interrupt me?

Will they obey, my peeps, when I confide

my need, or will they seek to come corrupt me?

Did Shakespeare have this problem when he wrote?

If so, at least I'm in a well-crewed boat.