(I am sleep deprived as I write this. Yes, AGAIN. I was up until 4A.M. adding stuff into my entry to the Manchester Fiction Prize, and spent the next hour or so reading a rather exciting segment of Wolves of the Calla. I never seem to learn)
(don’t judge me)
The worst thing you can do to the both of us is to get me to do something “in my own time”.
Deadlines – can’t live with them, can’t live without them. Part of me really resents that I have an obligation to actually do something; but the rational part of me knows that without it, I’ll be as productive as Chris Colfer is straight.
I apparently strive when working under pressure. Give me the whole weekend to come up with a copy, I’ll have one over on Monday evening. Give me a whole day to come up with some lines, I’ll get some out at about 5P.M. But make me – demand me to write something within 10 minutes, I’ll work wonders.
Maybe there’s just a secret reservoir of creative energy in my brain that is only tapped into when faced with stressful situations. This probably isn’t true, but it would make so much sense, would it not? How else can you explain the inverse relationship between time allowance and actual output?
Most times when I say that I am stressing over an assignment, I am not actually stressing over the fact that I cannot do it – I am more stressing, lamenting over the fact that I have to do it to begin with. But when the deadline draws closer than ever – I’m not talking about your amateur 3-days-more-and-I’m-screwed kind of close calls. I’m talking about I-have-to-hand-this-in-by-5P.M.-and-it’s-already-4.45P.M.-and-I’ve-done-nothing kind of close calls. When the deadlines draw close, and the pressure is, without a shadow of a doubt, fully and completely on; I am suddenly able to churn out within the next 10 minutes what I had been given 3 weeks to complete.
It’s a trend of mine, really, and an unhealthy one at that – to put things off until the very last minute, and then rely on the adrenaline rush to actually begin creating content. I have lost count of the number of times I swore to myself that I will make the day count, and end up only doing my work at 11.20P.M. – and then finishing it all by 11.40P.M., and wonder what the hell was I waiting all day for.
I’m sure I’m not the only one.
Really, though, there is some scientific truth to this. And for this, I must direct your attentions to one of the most intelligent blogs I’ve ever read:
On a side note, I have agreed to – no, more like volunteered myself to fetch a nigh-total stranger from the airport this coming Sunday. Because life is meant to be lived excitingly that way.
Enjoy yourselves, and I’ll see you all again when I am less sleep deprived.