I have to say goodbye.
Years ago, when I learned the word “procrastination”, I felt a deep sense of belonging — a belonging I never found among communities and social groups despite relentless striving. I observed how I have been doing a lot of procrastinating for days, months, and years. I spent days procrastinating for that homework, months procrastinating for that assignment, and years procrastinating for signing up for that art class.
I observed how the concept mirrored my activities right before a deadline. I read more about it and learned that people exhibit various behaviors to achieve the goals of procrastination and circumvent the purposes of the deadly deadlines. Then, I started monitoring my behaviors to see how creative I had been at procrastinating, and you know what I found? I found you.
Of all the things I could do to delay productivity, I do nothing but sleep. I sleep at unusual hours, after breakfast or before the evening snack. I sleep for an unusual number of hours, sometimes going on up to half a day. I’m not talking about the exact number of hours here because they seem gigantic in front of half a day. Half a day is good. A half is a small number. It is not even a complete number. It is good.
Right before a crucial submission, the legs, brain, and hands start to signal tiredness as if I had been on a trek recently. But no, life is not always that interesting. There was no trek and no trip. The fatigue just swoops in from nowhere and demands urgent naps. Naps that can be fulfilled at any time of the day.
And as tired the brain pretends to be for work, it gets as much more interesting in the dream world. It fabricates stories of unrelated characters so that I let my time away thinking about it all after waking up. Sleep embraces me so gently and carefully that I wouldn’t want to miss out on strolling in the made-up world.
Although why do you occur? Don’t I sleep enough already? I certainly don’t need extra naps to compensate for something I didn’t lose in the first place. Then why? Why do you make it look like everything else is unimportant and resistible, except for you?
I don’t have any scientific answers or the patience to explore and study the psychological reasons behind you. But as an overthinker, I do have a theory. I feel that you are worried about me. That you want to protect me from the stress and disappointment that might accompany the work I need to do. You probably want to shield me from the unending hours I’ll spend straining my eyes, brain, and neck. Maybe you want to comfort me as much as possible before the incoming avalanche of discomfort.
But you know what? It is alright.
It is okay that I need to do the work because delaying will only make everything worse. If my theory is correct, then I deeply appreciate your concern. In fact, I feel seen and taken care of, but I need to not sleep right now. What I need to do is work. So, with all due respect, I request that you avoid meeting me right before submissions, and I would like to say goodbye!