The Lemon Life | online magazine offering a fresh perspective on post-grad life.

Words by: Alex Fraser

Image by: Lindsey Shields

I planned on writing a thoughtful essay on the subject of procrastination. I was going to include facts, research and interesting insight into a subject that affects all but the most annoying of self-motivated go-getters. Alas, I waited too long to get started. Consequently, I have done no research, can provide no information and have no interesting or original insight on the subject. I tried re-reading Slate Magazine’s May 2008 special on the subject, but Slate is an online magazine. Once I logged on to the main page, I quickly became distracted by the tantalizing links offering endless paths to digital distraction. I could spend the rest of my life reading The Onion online. Needless to say, the plan to write an essay didn’t work out. Instead, with a deadline looming, I decided to take a closer look at some things I’ve learned from my life as a procrastinator.

When cramming for a college level chemistry exam, Homer Simpson once proposed hiding under a pile of jackets with the belief that by the time he emerged, everything would have somehow worked itself out. It’s a risky gambit, but one that’s sometimes worth taking. My boss once gave me an enormous, monstrously boring project and several months to complete it. A number of the senior brass were personally interested in this file because they stood to gain or lose certain benefits depending on my findings. Needless to say, I should have had this at the very top of my priority list, but my natural inclination to task avoidance kicked in. Anytime my boss saw me, I made sure to look very busy and very frustrated. Ultimately, another middle manager joined our group and my boss re-assigned the gruesome behemoth to the new guy since I was so obviously over-tasked. The move left me free to continue my pursuit of the Free Cell Solitaire world championship.

Even the best slackers can get caught out–even me. But I’ve learned to spin things advantageously. For example, my boss came to me one Wednesday afternoon with a major writing assignment due Friday morning. I assured him, and myself, that it was no problem. Then the boss found me drinking generous amounts of single malt during Thursday afternoon happy hour. Most people in my position would have been toiling away at their desk. He wasn’t impressed, until I convinced him that I do my best work in what I called my liquorlibrium-that magic zone between sobriety and intoxication in which writers craft their finest prose. I did complete the assignment, but only after a nerve wracking late night and an uncharacteristically early morning.

After all this, one might ask why we do it? For me, I think it’s the thrill of the deadline. In fact, I waited until nearly 9 p.m. on the day of the deadline to submit this piece. But if anybody asks you later, I was just spending time in my liquorlibrium. Now stop surfing the net and get back to work!

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