My lips are numbed with anticipation. Actually, they’re numbed because I went to the dentist, but I wanted to see how the alternative sounded. So, my lips are numbed with anticipation as I wait for something to break. I decide, for the sake of drama, that a little drool will leak down the corner of my mouth. Will I write my paper, or merely sit, fearing the paper I have yet to write?
Procrastination has been a tradition with me, ever since fourth grade when I broke down in tears over a Sherlock Holmes book report the night before it was due. It may be the cause of many tears and exclamations of, “Why me?” but it has also fueled some truly beautiful work. I know from discussions with friends and not-friends that other people feel this way as well, but it shocks me a little.
Why torment ourselves by leaving our work to the last second? Why would anyone be that foolish? For me, the answer is that I am most effective when I have the least to work with.
I remember Tetris, back when it was big in my family. During unfocused moments in school, I would catch myself tapping the tabletops as if to flip and flop the colored blocks floating, or rather falling, through my mind. My sister and mom were generally better than me, but I had one key skill—I was the comeback king. When I had three or four rows left to work with was when I played best. I could last that way for long, tense minutes as I dueled it out in two-player matches. The key is, I had to get to that point of desperation first.
I can’t help but wonder—if I were given only a knife and a loincloth, and set free in the wilderness, would I live longer that way? I suppose I’d be more inventive at least. And I guess it’s the same with the papers—I’m more inventive. I have to be, to write an eight-page paper in three hours. Magical things happen when you’re desperate.
Sincerely,
Spencer Miles Kimball
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