I’m a master of procrastination. I’ve somehow justified not cleaning my room for the past two weeks by the fact that I’m moving out soon anyway, and all of my coursework is routinely delegated to Future-Me as a matter of convenience.
I actually sat down to write this column and somehow accidentally created a quasi-inspirational piece meant for the end of the year instead. If there’s any possible way to avoid working on the task at hand, my brain will find it in a heartbeat.
I’ve noticed that my semesters tend to run this way: periods of high productivity and motivation at the beginning and end, acting as bookends for the academic flat line that inhabits the middle part. Being self-aware of the problem isn’t as helpful as you might think, either. Honestly it just blocks the (sometimes useful) stress from functioning as motivation by convincing me not to worry since this always happens.
However, I’ve had my people working on this issue day and night since I first started here (my people are slow and motivated only by thick cut bacon and strong porters) and I think we’ve finally found a workaround. Since I know the patterns I tend to fall into concerning schoolwork (and the profound lack of it) I should be able to plan out my productivity schedule ahead of time. So in the spirit of not failing everything, this weekend is my last lazy one of the semester.
Starting Monday I’ll be doing the springtime scramble I’ve grown so fond of these past years. By the time you all read this I’ll be triple brewing each pot of coffee I consume and will be running Red Bull through the coffee grounds to get that signature kick that fuels my studies (and probably causes my cells to divide uncontrollably).
Come Monday, my room will have been stripped of all distractions. TV, books, games — everything has to go after this weekend. Granted, the real reason is that I don’t want to move out all at once and my laptop can do all of those things anyway, but it’s the thought that counts. I’ll only be leaving the study zone for supply runs for more caffeine, which I’ve already started stockpiling in my closet floor.
I’ve already drawn up plans to fill up my Camelback with a proprietary blend of coffee, an assortment of energy drinks and as much sugar as I can coax into dissolving into the mixture. Mix that with a sleep schedule that consists of surprisingly little sleep and you’ve got a productivity storm that could jump-start even the laziest college student.
So for this weekend I’ll kick back and relax, be lazy, maybe go hiking or make a trip down to Slush Cup in Girdwood. I’ll get out and enjoy the sun and ignore the impending doom looming on the other side of this weekend. This is my calm before the storm, and that’s not hyperbole either. I checked my many syllabi to find that I have a billion essays and calc problems coupled with a nine-hour water quality sample that could easily involve storms.
I’ve got everything from ethics essays (which seem to involve an antiquated moral code of some sort) to calculus that seems to just be a random assortment of equations that no one in the real world does by hand anyway. I’m also fairly sure I need to check to see if my summer job still exists and figure out where I’m living in three weeks, as well as next year — any takers?
The point is that the next three weeks are going to be rough, but like most stressful inevitabilities, Future-Me can handle them later. For now I’ve got one more class before I kick back and use this weekend to get all of the glorious procrastination of my system. And if next week you run across a college zombie drinking caffeine sludge out of a backpack, don’t be alarmed. Just maybe steer clear and try not to startle it. Remember, when finals week hits, no one is safe from the frenzy.