Ay, ay, ay. The lesson I'm learning this weekend is that procrastination is the same no matter where you are in the world. And also that the consequences are the same. I was hoping that procrastinating in Spain would be somehow more stylish, fanciful. I thought that I'd be able to wave my papers away with classic European ennui and then languidly get around to writing them during siesta sometime. Oh, not so.
The Spanish translation for 'procrastinate' is a mouthful. Dejar las cosas para más tarde. Literally, "to leave things for later." Oh, and have I left things for later. At least I've gotten one out of the way. Two left to go. Dos más. As supporters of Barack Obama would say in Spanish, (Oh, and by the way, he is uber-popular in Europe. Even my dear little gossip show-loving former Spanish host mom is all about him.) ¡Sí se puede!
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