Oh, you, you dear underclassmen. You think you are clever, that you can beat the system. That you can write papers hours before they are due and still come out on top. That you can glance over your notes during your swift walk between classes and still do well enough on the test to slip through the cracks with a solid B, or perhaps if you’re lucky an A- if you have an impressive short-term memory. You even think that you can juggle your favorite TV shows, your budding college social life, your significant other, and your homework and still get enough sleep to stay awake in class.
You think you’re invincible, don’t you? So did the engineers who built the Titanic.
I know because I have been there.
If procrastination is one of the lesser art forms, then you may call me a lesser virtuoso. I have managed to hone the technique procrastinating with such precision that I could procrastinate my way through a Tuesday evening or a Sunday afternoon with my eyes closed; I can come up with just about anything else to do except write that paper or study for that test.
Because my skill does not end at ability to procrastinate.
Oh no, the true genius of my procrastinatory savoir-faire is my ability to justify my own procrastination. Indeed, I have even patented my own method of avoiding one thing for the sake of accomplishing another—it’s a little strategy I like to call “Productive Procrastination.”
I have taught myself to knit scarves, make a perfect beurre blanc sauce, speak rudimentary German, garden vegetables, and even work on alternate academic projects for the sake of avoiding the work at hand. I have read all of the articles on why procrastination can be good for you—think “incubation” and not procrastination—and fed myself with those same sweet lies year after year.
Until it stopped working.
Because if it hasn’t hit you yet, by second semester junior year it most certainly will hit you—and hard.
Procrastinating becomes a frightening thing, the makings of nightmares. The schoolwork does not get any easier as you delve into the depths of your major.
Your extracurricular obligations do not become any less daunting and your friends any less important. Perhaps TV is the only casualty to your advancing age.
Instead of surrendering to your caprices, you must fight that procrastination habit by funneling it into a new, supremely more productive tactic—that of delaying your gratification.
You must teach yourself temperance. Reward yourself with relaxation after you finish your work. Take pride in your do-it-ahead attitude. But most importantly, never get behind on your work during the first two weeks of school. Indeed, the first two weeks can make or break your semester.
I do not intend to imply that I am the model of getting-it-done. I am merely hoping that you, dear readers, can learn from my mistakes and break the destructive cycle earlier than I—that is, if it can ever truly be broken.
After all, as I go on writing away at this cautionary note, I do have a paper or two of my own to write.
There you have it: professional procrastination.
Rebecca Quinn is a senior art history, Spanish and French triple major. She can be reached for comment at [email protected].
