Can Procrastination Recovery Trigger an Identity Crisis?

Responding to a post I wrote earlier this week, my husband challenged my procrastinator status.  Since he alone among my far-flung readers has the birds'-eye view that comes with living with me, I am forced to consider his opinion.

These were his words:

are you sure you have a problem with procrastination? I don't see much evidence of it anymore.

My initial response was that his observation stemmed from a less nuanced understanding of procrastination than the one I have developed from living with this affliction for many years, and from my more recent study of it.

I admit that I'm hardly a layabout.  People have always told me that I have more energy than a half dozen whirling dervishes.  And I have managed to accomplish many things, though not always the things I think I care most about.  

But I am constantly doing battle with myself, and losing the fight to get and stay focused on my most cherished goals.  And, as I have written about previously in this blog, I wear the ultimate badge of procrastination, the designation of A.B.D. reserved to those who began but did not finish a Ph.D. program.  (See Dealing with the Undead, and Any Better Designations?)  Doesn't that alone make me a card-carrying procrastinator?

What would it mean if I were to relinquish my membership in this undesirable club?  Would I have to wear instead the colors of some other negative group?  Adult Suffering from A.D.D.?  Disorganized Person of Artistic Temperament?  Plain Old Flibbertigibbet?

It has been a long day, and a longer week.  I'm not going to resolve this now.  But it's something to think about. . .  tomorrow.