Procrastination

The defining quality of procrastination is this: that each and every time it is identified as procrastination, it is no longer procrastination. We may say it is so, and oftentimes people shamelessly flaunt their procrastinating habits to their peers. Yet, even as we identify it as such, and continue to bemoan the havoc it wreaks upon our daily efficiency, we fail to act decisively. We make feeble excuses, and half heartedly work for a short while, but the fact of the matter is that we fail to accomplish anything. The mind wanders far too easily in this, and many other cases (such as what I am writing right now). You, as a reader, are probably also using this essay as an attempt to procrastinate and thus escape the mundane reality of your workloads. Seeing as this will probably be the last thing to be read on the website (if anyone ever bothers to read my stuff at all), you must be pretty desperate.

In any case, procrastination is… different… from most challenges in that it expresses the innermost desires of the heart. When forced to work on assignments or given project deadlines with no seeming sanity to the whole affair, the mind begins to exhaust any desire to work on such meaningless messes for longer than a few minutes [Typically four (which exceeds the average American attention span by a good three minutes and fifty nine seconds).]. Hey, seeing as few people if any read this, I should have decently free reign.] The true monstrosity that is procrastination is one that has heads as numerous as the stars (read: uncountable). Actually, I retract that. It’s more like an amorphous being, changing shape every time it feels like someone has a fix upon it. In any case, it’s very hard to track down, and is relentless in its pursuit of prey.

Procrastination often runs down its victims by first exhausting the mind, then striking when the host has had its mind numbed by pointless projects and is unable to resist. Then, establishes a parasitic relationship with its host, sapping away time, energy and willpower that could be devoted towards doing far more productive tasks (like… I dunno. Anything other than schoolwork). Procrastination grows larger and bolder with each feeding, until eventually it grows large and obnoxious enough for the host organism to notice it. The host then generally plucks it off the top of its head, complains about it on social media, takes a few selfies with it, and then promptly returns it to the top of the head, where the parasite continues to happily suck away, only momentarily confused by the lack of serious response from the host (Must’ve been my parasite. Poor thing must be starving).

Well, my mandatory-procrastinatory essay is now done. It’s time to go relax, play some video games, vegetate for a few hours, complain about the lackluster quality of my work, and take a few selfies with my computer.

 

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