I am the king of procrastinators. I invent incredibly long lists of alternative activities, in order to put off that one big activity I’m dreading. In fact, my avoidance talents are capable of ‘Inception’-esque levels of complexity, putting off things that I only said I would do in order to have something to do to put off the thing I really didn’t want to do in the first place.
Amidst all this chaos, there is one certainty: that at the centre of the maelstrom that is my panicking and procrastinating, there is a quiet place. A solace of calm, to which I can always turn. My default setting. My inner peace. I am of course referring to making dirty sounding disco tunes.
To this end, I shall occasionally don the mantle of GLITTADIQ, and crank up the flange.