Louis Michael: Procrastination is an old friend

Last week I finished my second year of university. (Feel free to imagine that full stop as ten exclamation points, because that’s the appropriate amount of excitement attached to that statement). After a long and hard end-of-year slog, battling through traumatic bouts of cabin fever, detachment from reality, and isolation-induced madness, I finally made it to the point of handing in my final assignment.

Although there was no confetti falling from the ceiling or marching bands streaming through the corridors heralding my triumphant success I can assure you that all the revelry imaginable was going in inside my head. And just as I had dreamed, the chains of academic responsibility fell from me the moment I posted my assignment into the box. Suddenly, incredibly, unbelievably, I was free.

Now don’t get me wrong, I love my degree. I’m studying creative writing and English, my two greatest passions. Two years on from starting my course and I still feel unbelievably grateful to be in the position I am, studying what I love in a supportive, engaging environment. But sadly, despite every ounce of gratitude and every positive angle conceivable, when it comes to sitting down to write an essay, passion and motivation tend to creep out the door.

Eventually the ticking of the clock becomes too deafening to ignore

The dream was to passionately burn the nights away in a frenzied fever, scouring through piles of books, animatedly pulling together my argument and compiling all my knowledge and effort into one shining finished product. The reality was rather different. Instead, I found myself sitting opposite a screen, surrounded by piles of books, and staring out of the window thinking of every single other thing I could possibly be doing.

Procrastination is an old friend of mine, and even though I know he’s no good for me, for some reason I can’t seem to shake him off. He comforts me, he relaxes me, he makes me feel good, and when I’m stressed he helps me calm down. But he’s a short-sighted friend and he’s always been terrible at planning for the future. So whenever I let him smooth talk me into putting my feet up and unwinding, eventually the ticking of the clock becomes too deafening to ignore and I’m hurling insults at myself for being idiotic enough to fall for procrastination’s tricks again. 

Thankfully, all that stress and panic and apparently unavoidable self-loathing is over. Now are the glorious golden days I’ve been dreaming of, free of any academic burdens. It’s going to take a couple of weeks to get used to this feeling of lightness.