One thing that's important to know about me is that I'm a semi-professional procrastinator. I've made an art form out of it. Why write a paper when there's a football game on? There will be plenty of time afterward. Sure, I suppose one beer won't hurt. Fine, six. Looks like I passed out on the couch and now it's 1 a.m. Shucks. Guess it'll have to get done tomorrow! Rinse, repeat.
Then, once the papers and assignments start piling up and all of a sudden I've got a brief novel worth of assignments to finish, it hits.
The Fear.
The Fear is that moment—it could be while you're on that 10th hour in bed or while finishing that ""last"" game of ""Mario Kart""—where you realize that it would be difficult to physically complete an assignment before it has to be turned in. It simply must get done. No amount of further procrastination can save you, and the adrenaline rush kicks in.
Perhaps one more game of ""Mario Kart"", but then I'm serious.
On the one hand, it seriously limits my ability to have fun at the expense of my school work. What The Fear does, though, is let me channel all my energies toward meeting a deadline. The Fear makes me feel guilty for doing anything other than the assignment, and for this I hold mixed feelings toward The Fear.
Putting assignments off until the last possible moment isn't the easiest or least stressful way to live life, but once you become dependent on The Fear to get things done, it's almost impossible to do it any other way. Deadlines equal production, and there is no alternative.
This semester it took longer than usual for The Fear to come. Perhaps it was the especially long autumn (shout out to global warming!), or that pesky senioritis, but I began to actually miss The Fear.
How was I supposed to pass classes when all I wanted to do was pass the boot?
I became a bit worried it had left me for good one night last week, when a 10-page assignment had me down to the single digit hours and I was playing sheepshead. The Fear I know and love wouldn't let that happen, but there I was, staring several blank pages in the face.
Then it kicked in. At approximately 4 a.m. the morning before, I punched out approximately six pages of material that at least resembled the assignment.
But what's important is that without The Fear it wouldn't have happened. It was a roll of nearly unprecedented brilliance. I hadn't had that kind of streak since the famed run of 10 pages in a sociology class two years ago.
Runners have runner's high, a euphoria that comes after a run when the adrenaline is still flowing strong. I assume it's similar to the feeling of being done after an all-nighter.
Pretty soon I'm going to be pretending to be an adult, and I don't know how The Fear will react to that. Perhaps it will become more of a constant companion, reminding me on an hourly basis that I'm actually getting paid to not procrastinate.
For now, finals week is rapidly approaching and I suspect The Fear will have me pretending to be a responsible adult for a few weeks. Thankfully, I've got a little time before that happens. Do you think The Fear is on Facebook? I better go check.
