Before I get carried away with the ins and outs of complete flakery, let’s be clear about what a flake IS, exactly. Some people use that word to describe—

[LOUD BUZZER SOUND]

Um, uh — well, I told you I won’t lie, so the truth is I wrote those words hours ago. I’ve been procrastinating ALL DAY on finishing this post. It is now three minutes to midnight, so I am technically keeping the commitment I made at Be Awesome Online to blog every day this month — oops, now it’s 12:03 — but let’s face it. This is completely flaky behavior, and therefore a perfect example for us to ponder.

Here’s how The Urban Dictionary defines a flake:

n. An unreliable person; someone who agrees to do something, but never follows through.

1. John called in sick to work again today. He’s such a flake.

2. Mary said she would do the research for our project, but it’s been a week and she hasn’t done a thing. She’s such a flake.

But it doesn’t say WHY flakes are unreliable. It’s not as though we choose to piss off everyone around us — well, unless we’re also passive aggressive, but I don’t think that’s what’s going on with most of us.

I’m no expert, but to me a flake is disorganized, often overstressed by work and/or family commitments, exhausted, and trying desperately to hide her shameful secret. Like the Red Queen in Through the Looking Glass, she is running as fast as she can just to keep from falling behind. And of course, she is ALWAYS falling behind.

Like me, most flakes are world-class procrastinators.

We make an art of putting things off. Why? Well, in my case, there’s a little kid inside me, stomping her feet and whining, “I don’t want to!” And because I’m an adult now, and my mother isn’t around to tell me I HAVE to, I usually don’t do whatever it is I don’t want to do, until I have no choice.

But I think there’s another reason too: fear.

I was afraid of writing this post. I didn’t have a clear idea of what I wanted to say, just something vague about “What is a flake?” And being a bit OCD about every single comma, I knew I would go back and edit, edit, edit till the cows come home. Writing for me is a huge chore because of this pesky little perfectionism problem.

Yep, perfectionism is probably another flake trait.

I still have no idea how I’m going to end this post, and that has me feeling uncomfortable. It’s a physical feeling, actually, and I don’t like it. My stomach is tight, my arms ache, and I just want it to be over. It’s now nearly 2 a.m., so I’m tired to boot.

My usual habit is to avoid that ache-y feeling at all costs. Part of my brain is saying, Finish it tomorrow, nobody cares. Nobody even knows about this site yet. You can do two posts in the morning to catch up.

But we know where that slippery slope ends up, don’t we? In the RIVER OF BROKEN DREAMS, PEOPLE.

So I will keep my commitment to write a post a day this month [even though we are technically into the second day for this post] because that’s what The Complete Flake is about: Getting Things Done for a friggin’ change.

So I guess that’s a good enough ending for now, because I am fresh out. Phew!

What’s your definition of a flake? How does your own flakery feel when you’re deep in it? Does it make you uncomfortable? Tell me in the comments below.