Master of Procrastination

In times where my life could go one way or another, for better or worse, I always find myself doing what I do best. Procrastinating. It’s one of the few things that I know that I’m good at and strangely I’m proud of it. Maybe I shouldn’t be. I mean after all while I am typing this, my first AS exam is in 24 hours and 19 minutes and I really should be revising. I probably should’ve been revising weeks, maybe even months ago when everyone else said they started. The true irony is that I have been thinking about writing about procrastination for months and I am only now getting down and doing it to avoid another, probably more important task. Don’t get me wrong I’ve tried. But when there are hundreds of hours of TV on demand, instead of going over my poorly organised notes on Tsar’s Russia, I instead find myself watching hours upon hours of Alan Carr Chatty Man. And then there’s the constant Facebook updates from the irrelevant thoughts of 1186 ‘friends’ I scarcely know or care about. Normally I wouldn’t give a single shit if Brandon cut Jordan’s hair from home and shared a photo via Instagram but as soon as my exam is approaching I can think of nothing more interesting than admiring every hair on that conventional cut, looking for a single fibre of originality in the both of their ‘Facebook personalities.’ I am fully aware reader if you had any illusion that my teenaged life is an interesting one filled with recreational drugs and ambiguous sexual experiences I must smash that illusion now.

For me my procrastination goes far and wide from taking unnecessary walks, thinking about the world for a bit and coming to some interesting conclusions, to baking brownies I have no intention of eating. I am so notoriously lazy I will procrastinate my procrastinating tasks. For example if I were to delay doing revision I may bake a cake. But I won’t actually bake the cake. I might get as far as making the mixture but then decide that putting it in the oven can wait and seeing if I have a hidden talent for darts must come first. Yet whilst playing darts I realise how near my exams actually are and the revision better come first. So I will drag myself back to the house and go to the third floor to my lair of procrastination. As I will sit before the piles of work I have put off for weeks I decide I am rather parched and a drink is necessary to aid my brain to this difficult task of actually being productive. Yet when I get downstairs no drink in the fridge will tickle my fancy so I must now make a very important trip to the village shop to view various overpriced juices from fruits that I’m not even sure exist. When I settle on some Rambutan Fruit Juice I return home with a large glass to my area of revision. Revision is productive for a record breaking 12 minutes before realising I never actually put that cake in the oven. Feeling satisfied with limited information on Stolypin’s Land Reforms and Witte’s Great, I head downstairs to put the cake in the oven. By the time the cake is ready the day has already passed. The revision can begin tomorrow.

Obviously I am not sure when my next entry will be. Probably when there is a far more important task to be tackled.

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