The Dangers of Procrastination!

Procrastination is the mother of pain, of stress, and of frustration. It is a strange thing, you know that the work has to be done, there is nothing that is going to change that, and yet still you would rather check Face Book, go for a walk, or clip your toenails. Even as I write this, I am procrastinating. I should be writing a presentation about Crime and Punishment in Medieval England, but I am writing this instead.

 

            But then, I feel that I can justify this. I need to warm my fingers up, otherwise I could pull a muscle, do some real damage. And at least I am working, even if I am not working on what I should be. And it’s only just gone midnight, the night is still young!

 

            But this is not the first time that I have let things get on top of me, and I know for a fact that there are others in the same situation as me even as I type. Procrastination is a plague that ruins our lives, it is the blight of students, it is an epidemic! Why the government has not ploughed millions into finding a cure is anyone’s guess. Do we really need a cure for the common cold? Is not the health and wellbeing of millions of students worldwide far more important?

 

            And it is not just students that are affected! Anyone who needs  to work but cannot is a victim. What people do not understand is that it is not just shear lazyness, there is more to it than that! At the moment, there is nothing that I want more than to get this work done, but I just cannot do it! It is like bungee jumping; you may not want to do it, but afterwards, you can see that it was well worth it. In fewer than five minutes I have written more words for this than I have in the last five hours for the presentation. Why do these things have to be so hard?

 

            So yes, it is more than a case of being lazy, it is a case of physically not being able to work. In the same way that I cannot float above my desk, I cannot do this work! Perhaps if I could get a job writing down my random thoughts (those of you who have read Athel’s Fish will know of what I speak) then I would be sorted. Well, that is the dream anyway (Please pay me to write this stuff! Just let me have one tiny column! I’m a good writer, I promise!).

 

            But then I suppose that if this writing was my job, I would be writing for work, not pleasure, and I would most likely procrastinate about that as well.

 

            Good god, this has got bad! It has got the point where I would rather write this shit than get on with the bloody project! I’ve tried everything! I’ve been for a walk, I’ve had a shower, I’ve tried doing it a different way, but nothing works!

 

I’m going to stop now, and I promise you that by midnight, I will have another 100 words done, or I shall jump out of my window, making these my last words to the world...