Procrastination - Not A Good Thing

During the Revolutionary War, at the Battle of Bunker Hill, General Prescott popularized a phrase, by telling his soldiers: "Don't fire(shoot) until you see the whites of their eyes." It was about patience. And accuracy, since they had only a limited amount of ammunition. Our Irish family clan adopted it as a family motto. With a little different meaning. It refers to our love to procrastinate in everything.
  
I tried to explain to Jay my tendency to procrastinate was genetic (to try to get out of a spanking, of course). He was less than understanding. He wants it gone. NOW, in his words. And yesterday he decided to teach me a lesson.

I can acknowledge Jay was more than fair. He gave me over three hours. And it wasn't a complex task. It was just to get the baby's supplies ready for bed, including mixing a few bottles, and be completely ready for bed myself. By 9 o'clock sharp. So it would be done well before bedtime. An easy task, taking a half hour at the most. 

So I waited until 8:30. To even think about it. He tried warning me. He told me there was no way I was going to be able to weasel out of this, even if I was less than a minute late. He told me the consequence would be severe. I smiled and told him I had everything under control. And I thought I had. Alas, I forgot I was me.
  
I got the baby bottles ready, put them and an ice pack in the little insulated sack we use for night, and set them aside. Hardest part done. Then I went on to prepare something else. And wouldn't you know it, in typical Kay fashion, I forgot where I put the dang bottles! I searched where I thought I'd put them. No luck. I searched the whole house. Came up empty-handed. I asked for Jay's help. He refused. Meanie. I tried to get out of it. His only response was that I was wasting time. Said with a knowing smile. BIG meanie. I was now in full panic mode. I began to search in places the bag of bottles could never be, the pantry, the garage, the washing machine... Well, okay, just kidding on that last one. I'm not that bad. But you never know! Anyway, a few minutes to the deadline, I decided to make more. I didn't want to-formula's expensive. But I was desperate, and I didn't want to get spanked! Jay came into the kitchen.
  
"What are you doing?"
  
"I'm...um..getting a bottle ready," I said, finishing up.
  
"So you decided to waste what we have and make more," he surmised. "That's not going to get you out of trouble."
  
"Well I don't want to be spanked, and I can't find them-"
  
"You mean these?" he asked smugly, holding up that silly bag. In typical Jay fashion, it had taken him probably less than thirty seconds to find what I probably wouldn't have found within two hours.
   
I grabbed them, and ran to the bedroom to put them where they belonged in the diaper bag. Then I breathed a sigh of relief. Until he appeared in the doorway. I tried to exit, and he blocked my way, his purpose evident. "Lie down."
  
"B-but I'm done!" C'mon, really? 
  
"And you were late. Lie down!"
  
"But I think I had time left!" And besides, it's not 9'oclock in Hawaii! I was about to say just that when, ""I came into the kitchen when the clock turned nine, the clock you know I'm going by. And I told you what would happen if you weren't finished by that time."
  
"Please don't spank me! I promise, I learned my lesson! I won't ever wait until the last minute again!" I gave my best impression of Puss' kitten eyes from Shrek.
  
"Sorry, Sweetie, but I have to. Now lie down!"
  
"But-" I searched for last minute tactics.
  
"You either lie down right now, or I'm adding ten more."
  
Okay, that's my cue. I did as he said, to spare myself making it worse, while he got the paddle. "I-I don't want this anymore! I'm not consenting!" He ignored me. "I don't want to go through this-I don't want to," I was sobbing already. He set his hand against my trembling skin. "Kay, was I fair?"
  
"Yes," I had to answer, choking on the word. I hate it when I'm asked that!
  
"Did you have enough time to complete the task assigned?"
  
"Yes," I admitted quietly.
  
"I warned you several times. I didn't want us to end up here. Why didn't you listen?"
  
"I, um, thought I knew better," I wailed, regretfully.
  
"You thought you knew better," he repeated. "You know, I do know some things and I'm trying to teach you. But all you do is fight me. You procrastinated and waited until the last possible second, and that's why we're here."
  
"But I thought I had allowed enough time--I would have made it if I hadn't lost the bag!" 
  
"We'll not talk about carelessness," said my wise HOH, "and just focus on the idea of allowing for unforeseen circumstances. I was trying to get you to do all this several hours ago, so you wouldn't even have to worry about the deadline. Even if you had lost the bottles, you would have had enough time. But no, you just ignored me. You can't continue to do everything at the last minute! That's why you're late so much, that's why paperwork doesn't get done on time, that's why the house doesn't look like it should. When I give you a task, I expect it done. When I say to do it. I'm not budging on this. Do you understand?"
  
"Yes," I said, breathing hard. And then he let me have it. And though he wasn't brutal, he definitely wasn't gentle either. Not that it would have mattered. I have no pain tolerance whatsoever. Even gentle swats hurt badly. But this was AGONY. I screamed into my pillow, from the first swat until the last, apologizing, begging him to be done. When it was over, and he had pulled my bottoms up, he had me look at him. "Am I going to have to do this again?"
  
"No!" I answered, tearfully. And I meant it. 
  
Afterward, as I so often do, I felt spent. Couldn't move, couldn't even slow down my breathing for a long while. And I just lay there thinking. I don't want to end up here again. After a spanking, often I want to quit DD, it hurts so badly. But I do so want to learn. I don't want to be like this anymore.
  
Later in bed, my husband started lecturing me again. About the future. "You've become serious," I observed, wryly.

"Well, Sweetie, you've left me little choice," Jay said, almost regretfully. "You play games. You obey me to a point, then you do what you want and then manipulate and find loopholes to get out of being punished. And that's not submission. Submission has to be whole-hearted."
  
That hit me hard. "I love you. I want to be able to truly submit. I don't know what holds me back."
  
He hugged me tightly. "You have that part of you that's stubborn," he said. "It's like you think if you let go that you'll lose your identity. And Sweetie, that's not the way it is at all."
  
Then he continued talking about other things. But his words stayed with me. The longer we do this, the more intuitive he's getting. And the more he makes me want to learn to do this. How do I get rid of that stubborn part of me? I don't have an answer yet. 

But in the meantime my goal is to NOT end up here tomorrow!