Procrastination n. where there’s a will, there’s a won’t (from The Devil’s Dictionary of Human Foibles).
(This article began as an article, not a story. A colleague was initially given the writer’s mantle; but this man, with prodigious powers of procrastination in harness, slacked off the job for weeks, and then, even more admirably, passed it on to me. I thought my work would be easier thence. But as is the will’s wont, it began running things its way again, imperceptibly at first, then more obtrusively -- more, more and more. The eventual picture is what you see on this page, a small attestation to the will’s manipulations and subterfuge.)
I can’t do it. Try as I might, empirical expert as I may be on the subject, procrastination – the article – refuses to be drawn into conversation. It skulks in its warm wet subliminal womb, its cosy psychological chamber. So what to do? Blank pages stay exasperatingly blank. Doodling on the keyboard palls soon enough.
New day, no dawn yet. Can’t keep putting off this article. Lady boss appears on the verge of conniptions and I will have tush baked for breakfast shortly. How much longer can I protest, and weakly, that I’m still getting into character?
(This article began as an article, not a story. A colleague was initially given the writer’s mantle; but this man, with prodigious powers of procrastination in harness, slacked off the job for weeks, and then, even more admirably, passed it on to me. I thought my work would be easier thence. But as is the will’s wont, it began running things its way again, imperceptibly at first, then more obtrusively -- more, more and more. The eventual picture is what you see on this page, a small attestation to the will’s manipulations and subterfuge.)
I can’t do it. Try as I might, empirical expert as I may be on the subject, procrastination – the article – refuses to be drawn into conversation. It skulks in its warm wet subliminal womb, its cosy psychological chamber. So what to do? Blank pages stay exasperatingly blank. Doodling on the keyboard palls soon enough.
New day, no dawn yet. Can’t keep putting off this article. Lady boss appears on the verge of conniptions and I will have tush baked for breakfast shortly. How much longer can I protest, and weakly, that I’m still getting into character?
Procrastinaaaaationnnn...where art thou?
I can do this. The question is, pre- or post-Armageddon? Maybe I should try on a pseudonym, slip into fictive mode. Let’s see…what princely nom de plume would stir-fry a writer with severe writer’s blockage? Raymond Carver? Too Godlike. Margaret Atwood? Too…Goddesslike. Mariah Carey?
I can do this. The question is, pre- or post-Armageddon? Maybe I should try on a pseudonym, slip into fictive mode. Let’s see…what princely nom de plume would stir-fry a writer with severe writer’s blockage? Raymond Carver? Too Godlike. Margaret Atwood? Too…Goddesslike. Mariah Carey?
I can’t do this.
Let’s try another tack. If I were to give myself a crash course in the art of procrastination…hmmm, let’s see, how do I do what I’m best at. Okay, here goes: (Fits all jobs at hand) Take a deep deep breath; marshal all available, non-available reserves of energy and dedication; crouch mentally like a wildcat poised to spring, sucking in more and more breath until you are forced to stop; (proceed gingerly here – rough terrain ahead) and then, and then, with every fibre and pore and sinew and plasma of your being, with every modicum of memory and experience and breath, throw yourself into—
—doing absolutely nothing.
(for greater effect, provide your overtaxed body with a couch).
Repeat as often as desired.
Now I’m getting warmed up. Dig deeper into thy soul and thou shalt find thyself. Some essential edicts, proverbs and graffiti from the Land of Procrast:
*Never put off for tomorrow what you can put off indefinitely.
*Procrastination, like procreation, propagation and prostitution, is a virtue imbibed slowly. Very very slowly.
*Delegation’s good, dereliction even better.
*Time wasted well is never a waste of time.
*To procrastinate will be an awful big adventure.
*We needed twenty thousand years of civilization to evolve into couch potatoes. Shove that into your pipe and smoke it (languishing on a couch, preferably).
*This is your land, where procrastination is a prescription drug sold over the counter. Ask for Chill Pills.
*In this pro-procrastination nation, wars, disease, superstition, marriage, hate, harmful UV rays and writer’s block have been peremptorily adjourned to a later date, of which nobody has any clue.
*Procrastinate now, if not sooner!
A slight history lesson. Apparently, as early as the 17th Century, procrastination, or task avoidance, was perceived as a sin and vociferously sermonized against. Fortunately, this religious connotation faded over the years, and the result is…me.
Ancient Egyptians had two verbs that have been translated as meaning procrastinate. As Ferrari and his colleagues note (Ferrari et al., 1995), "one [meaning of procrastination] denoted the useful habit of avoiding unnecessary work and impulsive effort, while the other denoted the harmful habits of laziness in completing a task necessary for subsistence, such as tilling the fields at the appropriate time of year in the Nile flood cycle" (p. 4).
Now I’m getting warmed up. Dig deeper into thy soul and thou shalt find thyself. Some essential edicts, proverbs and graffiti from the Land of Procrast:*Never put off for tomorrow what you can put off indefinitely.
*Procrastination, like procreation, propagation and prostitution, is a virtue imbibed slowly. Very very slowly.
*Delegation’s good, dereliction even better.
*Time wasted well is never a waste of time.
*To procrastinate will be an awful big adventure.
*We needed twenty thousand years of civilization to evolve into couch potatoes. Shove that into your pipe and smoke it (languishing on a couch, preferably).
*This is your land, where procrastination is a prescription drug sold over the counter. Ask for Chill Pills.
*In this pro-procrastination nation, wars, disease, superstition, marriage, hate, harmful UV rays and writer’s block have been peremptorily adjourned to a later date, of which nobody has any clue.
*Procrastinate now, if not sooner!
A slight history lesson. Apparently, as early as the 17th Century, procrastination, or task avoidance, was perceived as a sin and vociferously sermonized against. Fortunately, this religious connotation faded over the years, and the result is…me.
Ancient Egyptians had two verbs that have been translated as meaning procrastinate. As Ferrari and his colleagues note (Ferrari et al., 1995), "one [meaning of procrastination] denoted the useful habit of avoiding unnecessary work and impulsive effort, while the other denoted the harmful habits of laziness in completing a task necessary for subsistence, such as tilling the fields at the appropriate time of year in the Nile flood cycle" (p. 4).
The English verb itself is based on the Latin verb "procrastinare", combining the common adverb “pro” implying forward motion with “crastinus”, meaning belonging to tomorrow. Again, Ferrari and his colleagues note (Ferrari et al., 1995), "the combined word is used numerous times in Latin texts . . . Roman use of this term seemed to reflect the notion that deferred judgment may be necessary and wise, such as when it is best to wait the enemy out and demonstrate patience in military conflict" (p. 4).
Enough lectureship. The greatest procrastinators (one of whom I have long ceased to be) do not know they are called procrastinators, simply because they have forever delayed looking up the meaning of the word. History is chock-full with dilatory heroes. People who breathed, ate, slept, drank, lived their lofty art. Men and women and other lifeforms who believed so profoundly in the Nothing-Doingness of the present that even death would huddle in a corner, awaiting its turn. Or so these mañana warriors believed. Unfortunately, since these unhurried specimens never did anything in their lives except live and die, their names have not been documented; such is the stupidity of historians.
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