Happy new year

These are hard times.

Especially for procrastinators.

By the way, don’t think I’m being heartless.

I’m well aware that this is one of the most difficult times our country has ever gone through, not only with politics, but with a pandemic.

And with the politics of the pandemic.

But that’s not why you’re here.

I like to look at the lighter side of things, and if there’s not a lighter side, I’m determined to find one.

That’s why I’m noticing how particularly difficult it is to be a procrastinator these days.

Especially in the holiday season.

Look, I’m not especially proud of my procrastination.

I mean, who would be?

I’ll answer that. Later.

But I have been able to make myself do things in advance, when it matters. This is especially true with my job, which is writing novels.

Even I cannot leave a book until the last minute.

You can’t pull an all-nighter for 95,000 words.

Even a girl who talks a lot.

But procrastination is my natural tendency, and my latest theory is that because I have to fight procrastinating in my job, I let it come out in other places.

At least that’s my excuse.

Bottom line, the holidays.

I’m the person in the mall buying gifts on Christmas Eve, and all the signs that speak to last-minute shoppers are music to my ears.

I’m not shamed by my procrastination.

I wear it with pride.

Tomorrow.

Anyway, every year, I delay going to get the Christmas tree, and it turns out fine. In fact, it turns out better. I always find myself at a nursery with only the most expensive trees left, but they’re on sale. I’ve gotten $100 trees for half-price, and even a third of the price.

And thus my bad habit is rewarded.

I gamble in Christmas trees.

And it always works.

Not this year.

Francesca came home telling me that Christmas trees were hard to come by in NYC. She said, “Mom, I don’t think we should procrastinate this year. I think we should go now.”

I looked at her, appalled. Who raised this child? I replied, “Have we met?”

“Really, I think it’s better to get it early.”

“Where did I go wrong?” I asked her, but it was rhetorical.

We went tree shopping. This was last Saturday, five full days before Christmas.

We went to our normal nursery, where we had always gotten a discount megatree, but they had only tiny trees, which they weren’t even willing to discount.

Nobody ever thinks of the procrastinators.

We’re always last in everybody’s minds.

Or maybe they intend to think about us, but they just don’t get around to it.

Procrastinators accept an array of excuses.

In any event, we went to a second nursery, but it had no trees at all. I asked the guy, “Why doesn’t anyone have Christmas trees?”

“Supply chain issues,” he answered, without looking up from his phone.

I thought it was BS but didn’t say so.

Christmas trees are not coming through the Suez.

We drove to a third nursery, but it didn’t have any trees either, and I was starting to worry. I asked a young girl there, “Do you know where we can get a tree?”

She leaned closer, whispering, “I have a friend who might have a few.”

Half an hour later, we found ourselves in an out-of-the-way nursery that had a bunch of trees, all looking terrific. They weren’t cheap, and we didn’t get a discount, but we found a really great tree.

And Mommy learned a lesson.

No, it wasn’t to stop procrastinating.

Someday I will, just not right away.

Don’t expect a character arc in 800 words.

For that, you have to read a novel.

What I learned wasn’t a lesson, but a reminder.

In this time of disconnection, in isolation from the pandemic, in polarization from politics, with phones that nobody ever looks up from, the answer is connection.

We got a tree only because a stranger took a moment to look us in the eye.

And be kind.

And that is cause for celebration.

I intend to pay it forward, every day.

Starting right now. Without delay.

Because nothing matters more.

Happy New Year.

Look for Lisa’s new domestic thriller, “What Happened to the Bennetts,” coming March 29. Also, look for Lisa’s best-selling historical novel, “Eternal,” in stores now. Francesca’s critically acclaimed debut novel, “Ghosts of Harvard,” is now in paperback.