Under Pressure

Deadlines. I like them. I hate them. I need them. I never finished a paper in college before 2 a.m. the day it was due. Usually, it was more like 4, 6 or 8 a.m. It didn't necessarily indicate a lack of planning on my part. More often than not, it was a case of the paper not being on index cards and notes, but it being in my head. After doing everything I could do EXCEPT write my paper (you know, all the really important stuff, like dusting the mini-blinds, cleaning out the refrigerator, going to check who was hanging out in the lounge, maybe even going out for a few drinks), I would finally sit down and face the blank white paper and the little black keys. Then, in one frantic frenzy, all of my thoughts would come spewing forth while I engaged in a great deal of mental editing as I typed. I will be displaying my age and the antiquated era in which I grew up when I say that I wrote many a term paper on typewriters, using a lot of white out, or typing a draft, going through it with my pen, scribbling in the margins, then re-typing it, handing it off to the professor at the last minute: a paper fresh with the aroma of typewriter ink. And white out. Aaah...I can still smell it.

It's the same way my house stayed clean for many years. The trick, my husband and I learned, was to invite guests over at least once a month; ideally, once a week, on extremely short notice. The amount of cleaning that was accomplished in such a short time was always astonishing to me, and oddly, equally satisfying.

It is this same mixture of dread, anxiety, and sense of satisfaction I get when I procrastinate planning for my class I teach at a homeschool co-op. I have a syllabus written down: a general course description, with class objectives even. But I do not have each lesson planned out with specific activities. (I teach 1st-3rd graders). I usually swirl around a general idea in my head a few days before, research it a day or so before, taking out many books at the library and doing a lot of googling at home. Then, sometime around dinnertime the night before, the main project, focus, or activity for the next day's class emerges from all the various data that has gone in my head. I do not put my lesson to bed until around midnight or later. The next day, when my class has gone well, when I realize that the activity was a success-enjoyed by both myself and my students, I experience a great sense of satisfaction-a high almost. A high in part, due to my thinking to myself, "Hey, I just put that together LAST NIGHT! and it WORKED!"

I wonder if there is a psychological term for this. Maybe "procrastinator's high." Maybe it is simply, "procrastination."

NaBloPoMo-will it be enough pressure for me to blog every day for a month? Stay tuned to find out. Someone may need to threaten me with failing the course if I don't turn in my blog on time. Or at least losing a grade. Professor? Professor anyone?