In your quietest moments, what do you say to yourself?
You awaken to the screaming fury of your alarm clock.
That’s a generous description. You’re scared to consciousness by whatever ringtone or loud blaring sound that is pre-programmed into your phone (or analog alarm clock for us old schoolers *wink*). The last fleeting moments of R.E.M. sleep evaporates as you desperately fumble for the snooze button in the dark. It can’t be time to wake up already. It feels like you just went to bed. You attempt to enjoy the fifteen minute period that your snooze allows, wringing every precious second to not face the day ahead. Eventually, you wrench the covers from your legs and slide off the mattress and begin to mentally prepare.
It was the mid 2000s and I found myself having to write, yet again, another research paper for school. High school to be exact. Like every report before it, it was due on a Monday, leaving me to devote a sizable chunk of my weekend to making sure that it was complete. Unless I REALLY wanted to test the limits of my ‘creativity’
procrastination by finishing it before the period it was assigned, using one of the school computers.
More important, than the due date, was the fact that I usually wanted to finish it early enough for my dad to look at it before I submitted it for a grade. What can I say? I was a glutton for punishment.
You can’t simply write in a bubble all day for the rest of your life.
How much are you willing to step into the pitfall in front of you if it means crossing the finish line later?