Procrastination

I mentioned last week that I usually restrict myself to topics about which I know everything, and then put my money where my mouth is by discussing coffee in the greatest detail. Today I’ll talk about something almost as far up my alley, but I’ll be doing it quickly, as this column is due in 48 minutes: procrastination.

Unlike nature (read: outside), which I unabashedly despise, procrastination is one of those things I actually do have a love/hate relationship with. I love putting off my lab report till Monday, because then I can spend Sunday night with a bottle of red wine and "Scandal" (2012-present). But then I hate myself on Monday when I’m racing the clock to figure out if my 384 percent error is because I’m really bad at calculations or just really bad at the physics lab itself.

I know I’m not alone in this respect, which got me thinking some deep thoughts about why we all procrastinate, anyway. (Bet you didn’t think today’s S&S would be full of introspective musings -- ha! I cannot be predicted.) The thing is, I can probably watch "Scandal" in the next 48 hours; it’s just a question of if I do it before or after my work. If I watch it before, I’ll probably have these tiny feelings of guilt. More importantly, Netflix will sneakily start playing the next episode the second I avert my eyes to check Instagram, so there’s a more than decent chance I’ll get sucked into the rabbit hole of “Did you enjoy this? We have some recommendations for you…” It’s sort of the TV equivalent of when you’re researching a paper about the Civil War and keep clicking on random links and eventually end up on Wikipedia reading about the endangered gooty spider and exactly what is being done to protect it; what’s more, you will care about said gooty spider. A lot.

But armed with the knowledge that two-thirds of Psych 1 has given me (what more does a girl need?), I think I’ve figured it out, at least in my own case. See, I like to pretend I’m a bad-ass. I engage in a number of questionably safe but really fun hobbies (motorcycle riding, boxing, etc.) More tellingly, I drink my coffee black as my heart and dark as my motives. In other words, I like a little excitement in my life. Where’s the thrill in handing in your paper the day before it’s due? It’s infinitely more exciting to finish your problem set seven minutes before it’s due and then attempt to break the sound barrier as you sprint uphill to turn it in. Extra points if the TA coming to collect them is approaching right as you skid breathlessly around the corner, and triple points if you box them out to get yours on top of the pile at exactly 11:59:59 EST. In fact, I train specifically to make sure my last-minute sprint is the absolute speediest it can be. This is of course the only reason I go to the gym.

So if I assume I’m a stereotypical Tufts student (not sure how I feel about that? Don’t think I’m awake enough to figure it out), I can extrapolate my own psychological diagnosis to all of you. Turns out we all just want a little more excitement in our lives, or maybe just one more tidbit to throw in casual conversation when we’re stuck making small talk.

So there you have it: the human psyche, decoded by yours truly. Now, I’ve got some "Scandal" to catch up on, but I’ll see you all next week.