Somebody has written a little poem which they called simply “The Procrastinator’s Poem.” I don’t know how they ever got around to publishing it. But it goes like this:

I’ve gone for a drink and sharpened my pencils,
Searched through my desk for forgotten utensils.
I reset my watch, I adjusted my chair,
I’ve loosened my tie and straightened my hair.
I filled my pen and tested the blotter
And gone for another drink of water
Adjusted the calendar, and I’ve raised the blind
And I’ve sorted erasers of all different kinds.
Now down to work I can finally sit,
Oops, too late, it’s time to quit.