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The prevalence of procrastination

James Murphy delves into the universal love of putting things off.

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“I’m off to uni, I’ll only have one subject that I actually like, revision will actually be fun, I’ll actually keep on top of all my work! I’ll never be behind again!”

At some stage in the application process, we all had that conversation with ourselves, grinning excitedly as we browsed prospectuses; on the fateful day that UCAS showed us that shining “CONFIRMED.”

At another stage, sometime after arriving – perhaps immediately, perhaps not till second year, but absolutely before graduating – another thought runs through your mind, probably more along the lines of “Where is the world’s largest pancake?” or “I wonder what that kid from primary school with the runny nose looks like now,” or “Maybe I should start watching House of Cards.” Two clicks, there’s a new tab, and your work is running in the background. When they make multitasking so easy, how can they expect us not to do it. It’s also healthy to blame technology for things because taking responsibility is probably bad for your self-esteem. Plus, that’s what old people do, blame tech. Fun fact, procrastination wasn’t invented until the 90s, along with double-denim and the Tamagotchi. I learned that while procrastinating.

Procrastination, much like political correctness, comes in many forms and we all consider ourselves experts.

Whichever way you choose to do it, we’re almost through the holidays, so you’re probably doing it at least five times a day by now, and no I don’t mean that. Procrastination, much like political correctness, comes in many forms and we all consider ourselves experts. It’s almost certainly why you’re reading this, which I say with confidence because it’s certainly why I’m writing it. It isn’t even term time, why are you on the Exeposé website right now? You have exams coming up, probably. Or is that precisely why you’re here right now?

Pressure to do well, the crippling fear of failure, disappointment, but not disappointing others; it’s all you, in your own head. It’s not your family, it’s you outweighing, telling yourself that you need to be perfect, but you just can’t quite get there, it’s too late, so why try? Just put it off, hide it away, bury it in Easter chocolate (can’t call it that) and crappy daytime TV. Judge Rinder is on, and those chapters you need to read will still be there in half an hour. They were written pre-Tamagotchi after all.

Either that, or it’s just that anything else at all is more interesting.

Eh, I’ll start tomorrow.

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