I am a procrastinator. I put things off until the last minute. They do get done, but I just don’t have any motivation to do them earlier than I absolutely have to. So I’m very familiar with this situation.
Finals week. Tomorrow is my last final. In that class I have 19 (yes, you read that right, nineteen) 2-page papers due, plus a 2-page cover letter, plus a 4-5 page final essay. This isn’t as bad as it sounds. They’re opinion papers, so they’re easy, and we were supposed to be doing them all term. But since she didn’t collect them, I put it off. So now I have 9 of 19 written. 10 hours to write 10 more, a cover letter and a essay. I have a bottle of cherry cola in front of me, a dr. pepper waiting in the fridge, and a hope that I might get a few hours of sleep tonight.
So why am I on hatelife? Hard to say. This always happens. When I lived with my old roommate, we lived in a studio together. One term during finals, we were both staring blankly at our computer screens, silently willing our papers to write themselves (hasn’t worked yet, but I haven’t given up trying), we suddenly looked up at each other and one of us suggested that we should reorganize the room. It was a brilliant idea. We each had 8 hours to write papers that were a major portion of our grade, so we rearranged all the furniture in the room for 5 hours, quickly wrote the papers in the remaining 3, and still had time for a shower before class.
The real reason my friends critisize me about procrastination is not that they’re opposed to the practice. Some of them are worse than me. It’s because I’m a complainer. I tend to let whatever little tiny thought that’s crossing my mind go to my mouth, and I loudly share it with whoever is standing near me. I should stop doing that. Maybe I’ll become the strong, silent type.
(this is where all the people who know me are laughing their asses off)
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