by Academic Procrastination
The Assignment
My ten-page essay on postmodern narrative structure is due in thirty-six hours. I’ve known about this assignment for six weeks. I’ve done nothing. Well, that’s not entirely true. I’ve done extensive research into procrastination itself. I’ve reorganized my desk. I’ve color-coded my notes. I’ve made detailed outline. I’ve done everything except actually write the essay. This is my process. This is terrible process. This is only process I know.
The False Starts
I’ve opened blank Word document seventeen times. I’ve written three different opening sentences, hated them all, deleted them, and started over. My current word count is zero. My anxiety level is approximately one million. According to productivity analysis, perfectionism causes procrastination. I’m not perfectionist. I’m just paralyzed by fear of producing mediocre work, which is apparently same thing. The longer I wait, the worse the anxiety gets. The worse the anxiety gets, the harder it is to start. It’s beautiful self-perpetuating cycle of academic dysfunction.
The All-Nighter Commitment
At some point, procrastination crosses threshold where the only solution is all-nighter. I’ve reached that threshold. I’m now committed to staying up entire night fueled by coffee, panic, and deep regret about life choices. My roommate is already asleep, which is good because she doesn’t need to witness this disaster. I’ve gathered my materials: laptop, seventeen different sources, energy drinks, sense of impending doom. This is happening. This is really happening. I’m going to write ten pages between now and class tomorrow at 10 AM.
The Three AM Breakthrough
It’s 3 AM and I’ve written four pages of incoherent rambling that vaguely resembles literary analysis. I’m not sure it’s good. I’m not sure it’s English. I’m sure I’m never procrastinating again, which is lie I tell myself every semester. Reductress would say Woman Vows To Never Procrastinate Again While Actively Procrastinating. That’s tomorrow’s problem. Tonight’s problem is finishing this essay and maintaining belief that I’m capable college student rather than disaster waiting to happen. The essay is due in seven hours. I have six pages. I believe in nothing except caffeine and spite.
