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Monday, October 23, 2017

Procrastination for the nation...

An article from Joseph Gavin's Oftentimes regarding the scourge of every student, writer, journalist, teacher etc.... procrastination.

The clock strikes eight o'clock and suddenly, after a day of doing nothing, I still do nothing.

Nine o'clock, I become anxious, I decide to do something. I lay out my books, get the lighting just right, arrange my pens in order of colour and make with the 4-in-1 at the right end my red bic medium at the other. I adjust the height of my chair, synchronise my watch, make sure my desk is facing east and fill a glass of water in case I become dehydrated. Then, just as I am about to work I am somehow drawn back to my laptop and the comfy chair in the corner of my room to check how the world has fared in my twenty minute absence. It's always fine.

Then I remember that obscure curio I wanted to put to Wikipedia, one thing leads to another and as I glance at the bottom right-hand corner of my screen I notice that it is now TEN o'clock. Never mind, I had planned to be in bed at eleven, I can work to twelve.

Then it kicks in. I work, I actually work. Really well too, much more efficient than usual. Half an hour in and I'm really proud. I deserve a break, I'll just pop down and refill my glass of water, oh what's that on the TV, the News? I love the News, it's my favourite. I'd better watch it.

With the shuffling of papers and muted conversation the news comes to a close, it is eleven o'clock. There is only an hour remaining of this day. Oh well, I'll crack me open a can of coke for that caffeine boost and go on 'til one o'clock. I like working at night, I tell myself, it's peaceful.

I sit back down, forty-five minutes of work done, God I'm good. But, what's this that has come over me? why are my eyes not obeying me? why do I have an undeniable longing for the soft rectangle in the corner of the room. Such a horrible fate has befallen me, I'm tired. Well, I've worked hard all night, ask anyone. I'll do the rest of the work in the morning or on the bus. I never do.

I write this at 9:49 on a Sunday evening, I have two hours worth of homework to do, and bedtime is getting further away. That reminds me, someone told me that Angela Lansbury's grandfather was Prime Minister of the UK.
WIKIPEDIA.



About the Writer

Joseph Gavin is a writer for BrooWaha. For more information, visit the writer's website.
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