All Hail the Procrastinator

I have spent the last two weeks wedded to my work. Now for me, “wedded to my work” can have many meanings, most of which don’t correspond with other people’s definitions. When I so much as read for class, I feel as though I deserve a gold star. But these last two weeks I have born the yoke of soul-crushing essay writing. I had to write approximately 20 pages, which is a lot, but it’s just not that much. Through it all, I was bound and determine to keep up with my social (drinking) calandar… it’s not my fault basically every one of my close friends turned twenty one between February and the first week of March. I don’t know what was going on nine months ago… and I don’t really want to know. I digress.

With all these “commitments,” much as Jack Nicholson might say, something’s gotta give. And that something ended up being sleep. If you either know me personally or read basically any of my she-bomb articles (c’mon, gotta be some die hard fans out there. Anyone? Anyone?) sleep is my ultimate favorite thing in the world that likens me to armadillos, which apparently are one of the sleepiest animals. Not to mention super cute. And weird. Also like me.

as if this little guy doesn't melt your heart <3

Anywayssss. Without sleep, everything, particularly focus, got a whole lot harder. I know this isn’t news to anyone seeing as that’s every adult, health center, and newspapers favorite semi important issue to pedantically spout from atop a soapbox about unhealthy lifestyles. Because that’s really the main unhealthy habit college students indulge in.

Clearly these guys just needed to get a little more sleep last night

To give credence to this argument, I turned into a mummy. Walking around campus, perpetually confused, stressed, wide-eyed, sweat pant clad, oblivious, and completely socially tactless. If you seen that girl. Now you know she’s me.

So add sleep deprived to the melilee and my already-slower-than-usual-due-to-heavy-winter-rusting essay writing pace and my work literally took me forever to accomplish. Consequently, I’ve been locked up in the library. Days on end. You know when my roommate, the only person I know who actually reads every single page of every single assignment as a LJST/English major, asks me if plan on ever coming home from the library, I was busy.

And I don’t know what it was. But by this last paper due this morning, it took me ten hours of slaving away over primary sources to write the shittiest draft ever. And randomly. Without explanation or impetus. My brain started to work. I started over. And pumped out a five page draft in less than an hour. And it wasn’t bad. In fact, I can confidentally say it was the best paper I’d written in these last two weeks.

"Woah": 'nuff said.

Now my brain starts working? Really?

Logically, I get the idea that two weeks of three hours/night of sleep prevented this paper from getting done sooner. But there’s also something pressing about minimal sleep. Additionally, this was the end of my week of excessive work. And it managed to be the perfect storm of impending deadline (c’mon it was bar night), excessive practice, and dumb luck to write that well.

The most prolific of procrastinators, I am trying to break my bad procrastination habit. Positive feedback like this, despite the negative health consequences, only makes me feel more justified in putting things off until the last minute. While not everyone works well under deadline, it just works for some people. And I think it’s legitimate to say it’s just their process. Yes, if I had more sleep, that paper would have been better. But it ended up being fine. And I tried to write it earlier. And it was taking me an unacceptable amount of time. When you’re well rested, it’s almost easier to get distracted because you feel like you could be up for days. But when you’re tired, it’s almost like a switch goes off in your brain. You stick on that thinking cap and go. And the time to quality ratio just isn’t bad.

So basically, it has taken me six hundred words of narrative to explain to you all (and to myself seeing as this article didn’t have a direction when I started… in case you couldn’t tell by the directionless rambling)… I’m a procrastinator and I’m proud.

I maintain there’s legitimacy to that work habit. Fuck all the haters.