I Should Not Have Waited

       Several years ago, I worked as a reporter for a regional newspaper that was published every two weeks. I would receive an assignment on a particular story from the editor, and then typically had a week or two to complete my research or interview the subject of the story, write the article, and turn it in. This was free-lance work, so my working hours were my own. I enjoyed the challenges, the recognition from readers, and the money that I earned for my labors.

       One of my assignments was to interview an elderly woman who was about to celebrate an advanced birthday—something like ninety or one hundred years. For some reason, I kept putting off the assignment, promising the editor that it was coming, but not calling to obtain the interview.

       Eventually, I had to quit making excuses, so I finally telephoned to arrange to speak with the woman. The person who answered my call informed me that the subject of my interview had died the week before.

       I was stunned. I had no idea she had been in poor health. I hadn’t done my job, and now the story was lost—not to mention the income. I didn’t regret the loss of the money so much as the feeling that I had let down my editor. I was concerned that I would become branded as untrustworthy—and I was devastated that I fully deserved the label.

       In that moment of despair at my procrastination, I vowed never to put off a task again—no matter how hard it seemed at the time. Although years later I still struggle to keep that vow, I’ll always remember the consequences and the self-recrimination I had to endure because of waiting to complete that assignment.