staceybooks

I got an email today with the energy of a motivational speaker who just discovered emojis.

“How to Stop Procrastinating in 30 Days FREE Webinar is LIVE, First Name! LET’S GO!”

(First of all, rude. My name is not First Name. But okay.)

Now listen—I wanted to click that link. I really did. But here’s the thing. I’ve seen this trick before. The “free” webinar that starts with promises to change your life and ends with you giving up your credit card faster than your time management skills gave up on you in 2009.

I didn’t even open it. Not because I’m too busy. Not because I forgot. Not because I was cleaning my house, because let’s be honest, we all know that’s a lie.

But because I knew, deep in my soul, that this was going to end with a $397 upsell, a PDF I’ll never read, and a Facebook group where strangers aggressively cheer you on while silently judging your lack of progress.

And let me tell you something. I may procrastinate everything else in my life, but when it comes to swiping my card for something that says “limited time offer,” I become the fastest decision-maker this side of Amazon Prime.

So no, I didn’t open it. Because I know myself.

I would have been two slides in, nodding, saying “That makes sense…” and the next thing you know I’ve signed up for the Procrastination Bootcamp Platinum Bundle, a six-month series I will never finish, with three bonus calls that will be rescheduled seven times.

Don’t get me wrong. I need help. But I don’t need $397 worth of help.

What I need is someone to follow me around all day like a productivity bodyguard.

“Put the cookie down, Stacey. Open the laptop. Step away from the throw blanket.”

I don’t need a webinar. I need a life intervention. Preferably one that comes with snacks and doesn’t try to sell me a digital workbook with motivational quotes in cursive.

So until then, I’ll be over here procrastinating in peace.

With my money.

Right where it belongs.