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Procrastination.

You know what I mean; don't try to tell me that you're not guilty of such a crime. No matter how much you try to cough and shuffle your feet.

I suppose to the eternal procrastinators of the world, there is no greater pleasure than the one of doing nothing of importance that what brings you pleasure.

I suppose it's a habit much similar to smoking. Inevitably dangerous to you, but you can't help but indulge yourself. I suppose if you catch the disease early on, there's still a chance to re-organize your priorities. But if you let it fester and grow, it comes to the point where you fall victim, and continuously kindle it, without even realizing it.

I was thinking about this today as I procrastinated my history homework. It's a simple assignment, copying important terms from and book and storing them into my memory for Monday. But the fact remains that the job of doing so is tedious.

I ended up waking up very late today ((by my standards)) at 11:30 this morning. Actually, I would have slept longer if my mom hadn't woken me up by then. Regardless, I slept too long and felt lethargic for the rest of the day. Although I knew I had to do some of the history work, I couldn't bring myself to get up off the couch or away from the computer. And, I suppose, procrastinating is supposed to relieve you of your troubles and stress for a short time until it's time to finally bite the bullet and get your work done; at which point you're stressed to the brink of your endurance.

But, the entire time I'm trying to relax and forget, I simply couldn't. My mind continued to race around and over itself in circles over the impending homework. I only had a little left to do, and if I started it early enough, I could do a little at a time and save myself the trouble. Easy. In theory.

It was about 4:00 when I began to distress over my laziness. I was dragging my butt to write down some vocabulary homework, and I was signing up for advanced placement classes next school year brining in three times as much homework over the weekends.

It came to the point where I was threatening to throw myself into a downward spiral of self-loathing...so I did my homework, when I could have just put it off until tomorrow.

So, today, I learned that I'm a bad procrastinator. Not bad as in the sense that I do it too often...but in the sense that I can't procrastinate effectively. For, it seems, that I crumble instantly under the pressure of any kind of guilt weighing down on my conscience. But I can't decide if this is a good trait to possess or not...