The Tomorrow Club
I’ll get to it. Maybe. Tomorrow.
I made a list of things to do, A noble plan, a task or two I sharpened pencils, cleaned my chair, Then somehow reorganized my hair I opened up my laptop screen, Prepared to work both hard and keen But first, I thought, “A snack would help.” Then ate enough to feed an elf I checked the weather. Checked it twice. Compared forecasts. Took advice. Though I had nowhere planned to go, I felt it was good stuff to know I started cleaning out a drawer, Then found some photos from before Three hours later I could say, I’d traveled through my past all day My laundry sat. The dishes too. The things I’d promised I would do Remained exactly where they’d been, While I researched the violin I watched a video called How - To stop procrastinating now It lasted nearly half a day, A productive waste of time, I’d say The deadline knocked. I looked away. “We’ll talk,” I told it, “just not today” It sighed and pulled up one more chair, Quite used to finding me right there At last I rose with fierce intent, Determined, focused, hell-bent I made a plan, reviewed it twice…. Then thought tomorrow might suffice So if you’ve meant to do that thing, Since early fall or maybe spring Yet somehow still have not come through, The Tomorrow Club welcomes you Our meetings start at half past ten…. Or maybe noon. We’ll see. And then - We’ll pick a date and make a plan, We’ll get around to it…. When we can 😄
If you enjoyed this poem, please check out more work from myself, and others, at www.chaoticrambling.com
I would love for you to check out my recently published book, “Between Then and Now”, a collection of 60 poems written between the ages of 15 and 39, it’s currently being sold at Amazon. It’s also available on kindle unlimited.
Stay tuned for my book “Between Now and Hope.” It will be released sometime in 2026. It’s a collection of poems that focus on making this world a better place.
Thank you for taking the time to read my words.




Love that poem – I'm a Procrastophile
April, “a productive waste of time” is such a perfect phrase for the strange creativity of procrastination. The poem is funny because every detour feels familiar: the snack, the weather check, the drawer that becomes a time machine, the laundry and dishes waiting patiently while the violin suddenly becomes urgent research. I especially enjoyed how the deadline becomes almost a character, pulling up a chair because it knows the routine. Grateful for the wit and lightness with which you turned avoidance into such a delightful little club.