It’s kind of fitting that I procrastinated about writing this post (not that it’s particularly noteworthy, of course, since I procrastinate about nearly all my posts, and even procrastinate about procrastinating).
But anyway. I have finals this next week, so theoretically in my head, I would ‘study’ all weekend. That is to say, if you had looked about my mental planner (I mean to have a physical one too, but I keep procrastinating about it), you would have seen huge swaths of time blocked out for studying.
Instead, I did everything but. Today alone I went to church, did laundry, hung Christmas lights, mashed potatoes, cleaned my room, washed two cars, wrapped Christmas presents, and put a partridge in a pear tree. Oh yeah, and studied exactly one page of French vocabulary.
But managed to, in objective terms, be more productive in one day than I have for the past week.
What is up with that? It’s not like doing baskets upon baskets of laundry is more enjoyable than studying, because it’s not. But it’s as if the mere act of making studying my number one priority for a day automatically makes every other possible activity that much more interesting. Why is that? Is my psyche simply perversely determined to thwart my goals? I don’t understand: do you? Am I the only one who feels like this, or do you find yourself nodding in agreement?