Procrastination vs. Deadlines

With certain interviews I do, I still have to stare down the demon procrastination, even after nine years (!) of interviewing people for print (beginning with Zev Asher, for Terminal City, and Terry Riley, for Nerve Magazine in the fall/ winter of 2005). It's worst when I think I've made a goofy comment or error or asked a singularly dumb question during the phone conversation, because I dread having to hear myself back, making an ass of myself. Certain interviews can be very revealing about my levels of comfort with the topic and the subject: occasionally I'll giggle (if I'm nervous), ask ramblingly vague questions (if I haven't slept or prepped enough), interrupt the person I'm interviewing (if I have some idea about their work that doesn't fit with their own), or seem to fail to hear their answers, while I try desperately to think of my next question (usually due to a combination of all of the above, though it's worst if they, too, seem nervous or uncomfortable). Often my faux pas (what is the plural of faux pas, incidentally?) sounds far less noticeable on tape than it felt during the conversation, but the awareness that I've committed one makes it very very hard to sit my ass down in this office chair, rewind the tape (I still use tape), put on my headphones, and relive the embarrassment, as I transcribe. Sometimes I'll do pretty much anything to distract myself from getting underway, frequently involving cleaning my apartment, but not ruling out masturbation, puttering online, eating, and/or dithering on my blog, like now.

However, I have a deadline looming for this piece I'm writing, so...