For some procrastination is a necessary evil in life.
| A bead of sweat trickled down Amelia's back. She only had two more pages left to write. The clock in the corner began to chime and Amelia started, she had lost track of time. She stretched and her back cracked in a parody of a piano scale. A quick glance at the clock told her all she needed to know; her time was running out fast. Picking up her essay, Amelia took the time to reread her essay, it wasn't her best work but it definitely wasn't her worst. She picked up her pencil and started to write, her hand practically flying across the page.
Suddenly her pencil slowed to a stop. She tapped the page a couple of times before erasing a word. She wrote the word back in. Amelia looked over the last sentence, it wasn't great but it would have to do. A voice brought her out of her musings.
«Excuse me miss, but we're closing now.» It was the librarian.
Amelia hadn't realized it was already closing time. «Of course, I'm sorry. I'll be out of your hair in just a minute.»
She had never packed up her stuff so fast. As she took a step outside the library she took a deep breath. She had spent far too long sitting in the library. It started to rain as she started the short walk home. By the time she had reached her house she was soaked. She pushed her front door open. «Mum! I'm home.»
Her mother was quick to reply as she stuck her head out the kitchen doorway. «Where have you been? Oh, you're soaked! You can explain after you dry off.»
Amelia made her way to her room. She dropped her bag next to her desk and changed into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. Her nose twitched, she could smell all sorts of nice scents wafting down the hall from the kitchen. She poked her head into the kitchen. « What's cooking?» she asked.
«I noticed you've been looking stressed so I made some shepherd's pie, it's your favourite isn't it?» her mother asked, looking over her shoulder. «Now why don't you tell me what's got you in such a frenzy?»
Amelia took a seat at the island. « The problem is this essay, I forgot when it was due and now I'm cutting to close to the deadline for my tastes.»
«When is it due?»
«Tomorrow, and I still have a page and the bibliography to write.» Amelia groaned.
Her mother looked at her curiously. «Which class is it for?»
Her mothers brow furrowed, «Didn't you say last week that your psychology teacher gave the class an extra week because she was going on vacation? That's what you told me last Friday when I asked you how your day had been.».
Amelia's eyes widened and she tripped over herself in her rush to look at the calendar on the fridge. Right there in black and white, in her writing was the proof of her mother's words. She almost collapsed in relief, «Oh, thank God!».
Her mother merely looked on in amusement.