Miss Marshall procrastinates

It's just one of those things about her. She means well, but when push comes to shove she would prefer to go elsewhere. She is, however, an expert procrastinator. Consequently, after leaving academia for a life of playdough, PECS cards and group mihi, she began to think about things she would like to do. She continued to teach at the university, thus both delaying and funding the inevitable, and increasing by the way of contrast her affection for her day job. She also took up Pilates. This was a good thing, because it got her to do a push-up once in a while, and she quite enjoyed it. It also gave her something to do with the long hours between three and bedtime (six in all, or thirty per working week, only one of which, however, was spent doing Pilates, of course).

She enjoyed this so much that when her instructor asked her to consider training to teach, she jumped at the chance. It was the work of a moment to fork over her life savings (this had, after all, been a biannual ritual for the past four years, on account of the BA[Hons] [first class]) and head on over to Sydney. Twice, in fact. One thing led to another, and before long she was teaching Pilates part-time and pouring Ensure into mickey buttons, tickling children with feathers, and playing group xylophone the rest of the time.

In this way, she was able to procrastinate almost 24/7, which was nice. If all else failed, she still had her embryonic MA proposal to put off working on. Life was jolly nearly perfect. We shall continue at a later date.