When the next generation of human beings come across the remains of our desolate world many years from now, they will deduce that this morning's event caused the end of the world. The date: 7.23.12, a happy combination of prime numbers (which I adore) and the number 12 (clearly Aggie). Seems like an appropriate day for the world to come to an end, as I have caused it. Now, of course I am employing hyperbole (exaggeration) to maximize my point, but it's not far from the truth.
To begin, I am a procrastinator. Not just any kind of procrastinator. I'm the queen bee procrastinator. It's not that I am lazy or unmotivated, quite the opposite. I have always attributed my procrastination to two causes: (1) I'm very busy and (2) I like the pressure of a looming deadline.
First of all, I really am busy (but isn't everyone). I do things in the order they are due, but that usually leads to them being done right before they are due. That's how calendars work. Secondly, I like pressure. When I know something has to be done, and I only have X amount of time to finish it - I work really well. I've written many papers the night before (or morning) they are due. It works. Always has. I'm even particularly proud of the 30-page research paper I wrote in two days, which my professor loved. Even I realize that this is not the most wonderful method for working, but what else have I had to go on?
Let's go back to...mid-March? I think that is right; I'm sure I'll be corrected if it's not. A friend of mine was trying to teach me a new way of doing things. This new method required writing every day and logging my time spent writing. How ridiculous. I'm fairly certain that is the disdainful indignation that I responded to her with. She's still my friend. She's a trouper. She tells me how great this model is and how much it will help me. I resisted. Continued on my ways. Still succeeded (haha).
Now, let's come back to the present day. I have a book review to write for my class. The class in which I am learning the intricacies and details for this ridiculous method of productivity my friend was trying to teach me. I have been working hard on acculturating myself to this method. Through using this method, I have written a draft of my book review, which I sent to my mom last night to read and give me her thoughts on.
This morning, I was talking to my mom about the review, asking her what she thought. I told her I would finish it today then look over it again tomorrow. Puzzled, she asks, "Isn't it due today?" Poor mother. This is the mother who has relentlessly asked me weeks and days ahead of deadlines if my "paper is written yet?" Always with the answer, "Mom, it isn't due until XXXX". Again, poor thing. Usually on the day before a paper is due she would get the answer, "I'm starting it now".
Today, I reply, "oh, it isn't due until Thursday". Today is Monday. I think my mother had a heart attack. Lord Almighty, Hell has frozen over at last! Pigs are flying! The end of the world must be near. I have a paper completed - written, edited and reviewed - DAYS before the due date. This is big.
After she regained her ability to speak, my mom said, "So...your friend was right? Again. Second time in a week." (but I'll never admit that)
:)
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