Confessions of a Closet Procrastinator
I have often been called smart. I have also been known as the organized one, the down-to-earth one, and generally a good person for getting projects done. I am the gopher and usually the kind of person who does all of the work myself because, let's face it, nobody else can do it like I can, and that is just unacceptable. I am a good student with good grades and no social life--just ask all of my friends. They will say, "who, that one girl from band? Didn't she move to Seattle/Tulsa/Timbuktu/her aunt's basement and drop off the face of the planet?" Yes. I am that girl. However, the truth must be revealed, for in all of those carefully cultivated testimonies lies what eventually leads to a false conclusion about me. The truth is, I am a procrastinator.
Yes, that's right. Miss "I can't hang out and play Guitar Hero/do lunch/make friends with a hobo because I have homework." Yes, I do have homework. A lot of it. But will it get done? Yes, but not until the last minute when I am completely stressing it because I have had time to do it all week and yet still had the good sense to put it off. All of my friends (or what's left of them) are now going "Aha! I knew she was too goody goody to be true!" They would have to be correct. As we speak, I have a test to finish studying for, a history paper to write, piano to practice, a painting to work on, and a math assignment to finish. I also need to do laundry and mail financial aid crap to my next college, both of which could have been done this weekend. I'm not saying that I never do my work--I did study almost all day Sunday and I've been practicing the piano and doing math quite often--but it's getting to the point of ridiculousness. I would like to blame the internet, because it really has much to do with my slacking (damn you, Facebook!) but the truth is, I am the one at fault here. I am a weak-minded, technology-seduced closet procrastinator. I am the poster girl for the "Slackers Unite!...tomorrow" shirts. Where did I go wrong? It's probably the deadly mixture of a tendency to get in over my head and an unexpected talent for not finishing things in an orderly fashion. Ah, I should have been born a politician. What's ironic is that all of the stress I experience on a daily basis could be swept away if only I would organize myself properly, except that I can't organize myself to perfection because I am too stressed. It's a lovely cycle.
However, now that you all know what I really am, I expect you to save me from myself. It is now your official responsibility to make me do math and then force me into some Guitar Hero--a little bit of both shouldn't hurt me too much. Or maybe buy me a planner. Or a secretary. That would be nice. Heck, just put me on a yacht and sail me off to Timbuktu so that I can at least fall off the face of the planet in style. (Yes, for all of you geography buffs out there, I realize that Timbuktu is not exactly reachable by boat, but you get my drift, no pun intended.) Or maybe it's not so bad of a habit after all. Maybe I'll turn my life around, de-stressify myself, and even make friends with a hobo. One never knows.
And maybe a magical flying turtle will grant me three wishes and I'll end up sipping daiquiris in Fiji and throwing money in the ocean just for fun. Right.
Yes, that's right. Miss "I can't hang out and play Guitar Hero/do lunch/make friends with a hobo because I have homework." Yes, I do have homework. A lot of it. But will it get done? Yes, but not until the last minute when I am completely stressing it because I have had time to do it all week and yet still had the good sense to put it off. All of my friends (or what's left of them) are now going "Aha! I knew she was too goody goody to be true!" They would have to be correct. As we speak, I have a test to finish studying for, a history paper to write, piano to practice, a painting to work on, and a math assignment to finish. I also need to do laundry and mail financial aid crap to my next college, both of which could have been done this weekend. I'm not saying that I never do my work--I did study almost all day Sunday and I've been practicing the piano and doing math quite often--but it's getting to the point of ridiculousness. I would like to blame the internet, because it really has much to do with my slacking (damn you, Facebook!) but the truth is, I am the one at fault here. I am a weak-minded, technology-seduced closet procrastinator. I am the poster girl for the "Slackers Unite!...tomorrow" shirts. Where did I go wrong? It's probably the deadly mixture of a tendency to get in over my head and an unexpected talent for not finishing things in an orderly fashion. Ah, I should have been born a politician. What's ironic is that all of the stress I experience on a daily basis could be swept away if only I would organize myself properly, except that I can't organize myself to perfection because I am too stressed. It's a lovely cycle.
However, now that you all know what I really am, I expect you to save me from myself. It is now your official responsibility to make me do math and then force me into some Guitar Hero--a little bit of both shouldn't hurt me too much. Or maybe buy me a planner. Or a secretary. That would be nice. Heck, just put me on a yacht and sail me off to Timbuktu so that I can at least fall off the face of the planet in style. (Yes, for all of you geography buffs out there, I realize that Timbuktu is not exactly reachable by boat, but you get my drift, no pun intended.) Or maybe it's not so bad of a habit after all. Maybe I'll turn my life around, de-stressify myself, and even make friends with a hobo. One never knows.
And maybe a magical flying turtle will grant me three wishes and I'll end up sipping daiquiris in Fiji and throwing money in the ocean just for fun. Right.