Web of Procrastination

Web of Procrastination

I stare mindlessly into space. The humming fans of the computer… the dimming lights… the lack of sleep. All of these contribute to the present state of affairs, as I sit facing the computer... my eyes heavy and my mind restless. On the floor beside me lies an array of open books, strewn clothing and empty plates. On my computer, a vast diversity of web pages remain open – overshadowing a single minimised window dedicated to my assignment. Click. The assignment once more is the centre of attention. A blank white page, containing a single header and an unfinished sentence.

I am a procrastinator. My ‘today’ is eternally engulfed by looming ‘tomorrows’. As deadlines approach, I turn my attention towards other interests…any interests. So long as they allow me to take my mind off the deadline – even if only for a minute – I will persevere and follow the infinite web through the internet. Time moves slower and faster at the same time. The deadline approaches at an alarming pace, yet the minutes move forward sluggishly. Every second spent thinking about the assignment lasts an eternity. And every hour spent putting off the assignment lasts a second.

Too much time has passed. I snap out of a haze of procrastination, progressing into a state of panic. At this rate, the assignment will never be complete. I open the minimised window, and buckle down to work. Very quickly, multiple paragraphs are complete. That wasn’t very hard. I am a third done – only twice that amount of work and I will have finished. I take a well earned break for several minutes. ‘Several’ becomes ‘many’. Once again, I force myself out of Procrastination’s allure. After some quick thinking and planning, my fingers once again glide across the keyboard. Words fill up the screen faster than I could have fathomed.

Two thirds complete.

I know I shouldn’t break off the flow of words, yet attention wavers and boredom kicks in. I minimise the window, and take my mind off the assignment temporarily. Another glance at the clock. It is 4:30 AM. Time is being stretched thin, and sleep is a luxury I cannot afford until I am finished. The final stretch of typing, and the assignment is over. Relief hits me, and I gaze proudly upon the final printed copy of my work.

As always, retrospect reveals that I should have started – and finished – earlier. What I ended up with was ten hours of stress, and only three hours of actual work.

Was it worth it? Hell, no.
Have I learned my lesson? Only until next week.