I’m doing an all-nighter because the group we assembled for a project is dysfunctional. Or at least it was, until we finally realized we got a second chance due in 2 days and decided to huddle up and talk. Why didn’t we talk this seriously before, I wondered. Then who knows; by some stroke of luck, we just might not have to be cramming.
I hate cramming. Everybody does. Nobody enjoys that adrenaline rush fueled by chaotic panic. But then again, a good portion of the population has crammed at one point in their lives or another. Primary reason being procrastination. Ahh yes, that stupid trance where everything else seems more interesting than what is supposed to be done. My grandfather, who is heavily religious, considers procrastination nothing less than sin. It’s a version of temptation, he says. Now I don’t like questioning the great deity thou hath giveth mighty praise all thy life, but I have trouble buying into the suggestion that allowing yourself to be distracted is automatically a sin. That kind of thinking usually results from seeing things in black and white.
But we can’t help it. The ‘sin’ of procrastination always seems to linger around us. Every person regardless of age and gender is guilty of this terrible crime. If Genesis in the Bible had the Tree of Procrastination, Adam and Eve would have violated His orders far quicker than how they committed the first sin. Although now that I think about it, the Tree of Procrastination would have saved them from eating the forbidden fruit.
“Hark, beautiful maiden. Wilst thou accompany-eth me in picking forbidden fruit over yonder?”
“Maybe later, Adam.”
I don’t remember Satan ever setting a deadline for picking the damn fruit, too. How unfortunate are we that the Tree of Procrastination never existed?
Why, just the other day, I was trudging knee-deep in a different project for another subject. Then somewhere along the line of that work, I got stuck. My engine conked out, I got nailed. I wasn’t making any progress. I was handling three types of data at once and they HAD to move forward simultaneously. But I couldn’t even get one to get back into motion.
As I sat in front of the computer with a blank expression on my oily face, everything around me started to look more…significant than they should. I was seeing all kinds of shit and the monkey in my brain started clapping his cymbals.
“Is that a spray-on alcohol? Whoever thought of this is a genius.”
“Efficascent oil? My body does hurt. Stupid badminton. Better put some on.”
“The floor seems more annoying than usual, feels dirty. Maybe I should sweep.”
“I’m thirsty. I just drank water 5 minutes ago, but I feel thirsty again. Oh well, gotta get up.”
“There are a lot of dishes in the sink (an army of 3), I should wash these.”
“The fans in the computer’s system sound loud. They could use some dusting.”
Distractions. But they don’t seem like distractions when you’re in that procrastinating mode. Kind of like what I’m doing right now. The task at hand isn’t finished yet, but I’m writing this nonsense. Let’s call this a break so I don’t feel sinful like my grandfather implies.
A chat with my aunt brings to mind the topic of the office. I’m not entirely certain whether I miss the office or I just hate school right now. School’s a bitch. People tell me that I’d be missing school once I’m working. I believe them. This graph from 9GAG tells it all.
But right now, I hate school, and I ain’t gonna lie. Other than my programming subjects, I don’t feel like I’m doing anything worthwhile in school anymore. I was in the office just yesterday, but it’s not illegal to miss the office, right? Also, I get to do what I want to do in the form of work in the office. It’s IT-related stuff, dangnabit.
I’m procrastinating again. I’m going back to work now. Maybe.