It’s Monday Tuesday. Hopefully you didn’t notice.
“I’ll deal with this shit tomorrow” may seem like a reasonable decision, but it never is. I guarantee that Future You will be pissed at Past You.
For example: 6:08 p.m., Saturday night, I sat wondering why Past Me hadn’t gotten this newsletter done already. It’s his fault. It’s ALWAYS his fault. Then, 8:04 a.m. Sunday morning, Present Me was rightly pissed that Previous-Night Me had dumped everything on Sunday-Morning Me. And wait until I tell you about Sunday-Afternoon Me. What a piece of work. You’ll hear all about his bullshit shortly.
Sigh. As always, Present Me to the rescue.
To procrastinate: to put off till tomorrow, to delay, to say “fuck it.” Making excuses because everybody knows that the longer you stall, the better chances shit will magically get itself done, right? Ugh. Okay, let’s just get on with it…
Grab yourself a well-deserved drink, and let’s explore the appropriately timed human characteristic of procrastination.
I’VE GOT MORE IMPORTANT SHIT TO DO
Like sitting here waiting for something to happen without me having to do it. Seriously, this has to be done. Nothing can happen next if I don’t do this first.
Procrastinating is a nuanced art, one that I am very good at. The secret to effectively harnessing procrastination is to make it functional procrastination. Fill that space with something else, something that you’ve convinced yourself, and hopefully others, is more important. Here, I’ll show you:
Also, I just drew this really important picture of a rabbit with a huge boner that serves no purpose for this art release whatsoever:
The art of fooling oneself goes way back. Homo sapiens, with their too-clever-for-their-own-good noggins, invented procrastination a few hundred thousand years ago. Yes, back when loincloths were all the rage and sacrificing chickens still lifted the curses ex-girlfriends cast upon you, we were also dragging our feet. There’s no escape. It’s in our nature.
Anthropologically speaking, procrastination requires two things:
Temporal awareness (knowing that tasks can be deferred to “later”).
Social or personal obligation (knowing you should do something, even if it isn’t urgent for survival).
On a positive note, we’re nothing if not creative. From the void of dodged responsibility, countless wonderful things have emerged. Happy Hour, for example, genius! It doesn’t matter what else is on your plate; when Happy Hour calls, you’re officially on the clock. The world collectively agrees: dropping everything to pound back cheap drinks is more important than whatever else you were supposed to be doing.
The noble pastime of sitting your ass down and judging people, another wonderful invention! Nothing like disguising your dislike for doing anything as the very necessary public service of disliking other people. If you grab a couple friends to join you, it will seem even more official.
Of course, the ultimate form of functional procrastination is pooping. Nothing overrides pooping. Best of all, take as long as you like. Draft a long grocery list, write your biography, or simply stew over the depressing shit-show that is your life. You’ve got loads of time. You’re off-limits. When you’ve finished (if you even went at all), continue to sit there and enjoy the tranquility. The bathroom: a blissful dimension tucked between deadlines where time stands still. The closest place to heaven you’ll ever visit.
REALLY DEEP IN THE THINKING
Pondering is a very important thing for humans to do, and it’s also a very easy thing to do. It’s especially useful when you need to make it seem like you’re investing in the thing that you’re suppose to be doing. Just sit yourself down, scrunch up you face a bit, and stare off into the distance. There you go, you are busy pondering and shouldn’t be bothered.
LAST MINUTE DESPERATION CONTENT
Procrastination play-by-play:
Sunday 4:03 a.m.
Woke up, contemplated life, considered working on this month’s art newsletter release, went back to bed.
8:35 a.m.
Woke up, contemplated life, made coffee, googled history of nose picking, read up on rhinotillexomania, which seemed like an important thing to know about.
9:36 a.m.
Decided a road trip made sense (for the newsletter).
1:32 p.m.
Stopped at a tavern to drink beer (for inspiration).
3:45 p.m.
Left tavern, inspiration not achieved, contemplated dung beetles.
4:23 p.m.
Lost in a forest. Stumbled across an alligator?
He had a friend!
5:05 p.m.
Accosted by a mean snake. Followed it around because it seemed like it knew where it was going.
6:45 p.m.
Beer wore off. To maintain inspiration (for newsletter), it became mandatory to find another bar.
8:09 p.m.
Saw a piece of cardboard on the ground, named it William.
9:01 p.m.
And with that, Sunday night came to an end. To-do tasks effectively shuffled along. Monday’s problem now.
Monday.
Went on another road trip (for inspiration). As happenstance would have it, I ran into my sister. She also had things to do, but everything took a back seat while we discussed our preferences for blank paper or that paper with all the dots. We drew this:
Monday night, 9:56 p.m.
Fuck.
9:58 p.m.
Flipped through an old family album (for inspiration).
Side Note: Ever wonder why I’m so good looking? Here, let me show you.
This is my Mom!
This is my Dad!
And that’s that. Who knew procrastinating would turn out to be so content rich! Moving forward I will be procrastinating more often.
RUINING DRAGAN’S PHOTOS
Have you ever left your place and gone for a walk with a box on your head? You might think that you’ve pushed boundaries, but never doubt yourself. Push further. Never settle for just ‘a box on your head.’ There’s a whole world of next level to explore. I have faith in you.
THE ORIGINAL
NEW AND RUINED
You can see more of Dragan’s photography, untainted by my hand, on his official Instagram page.
NONE OF THIS IS MY FAULT
I’m human, and humans procrastinate. All I can hope is that I fooled you. Not really, I’m only fooling myself. I want to be better, I’ll get around to it, I just need to be very busy with other less important things first.
A final takeaway: if you’re struggling with procrastination, just pretend you’re a cow. Cows don’t procrastinate, they do exactly what they’re supposed to do. They stand there, make moo noises, chew stuff, swallow it, barf it up and chew it again, and drop poop-bombs wherever they feel like it. Cows figured it out. Let cows be your guide.
Until next time! (maybe).
You know that amazing creative project you never stop talking about? The one you’ve been planning forever and promising everyone will be “so great”? It’s not happening. It’s easier, and cheaper in the long run, to just pay me to be your creative outlet.