When Did I Become a Procrastinator?

And who/what can I blame it on?

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Image by kaboompics on Pixabay

I wasn’t always like this. I didn’t always put things off until the last minute. I wasn’t always lazy or tired or careless.

But something has happened as I’ve gotten older. I’ve become a procrastinator.

In high school, I was a hard worker. Diligent. Focused. And I had the grades to prove it. I was smart, but not effortlessly so. I spent hours every evening studying for my AP exams, memorizing vocab and facts, solving math problems and writing essays. I was unapologetically an overachiever.

And it paid off. I had top grades in all my classes. I was able to get into a pretty prestigious college. But after graduation, I slowly began to lose my diligence. My focus.

And now? Almost 10 years later, I still don’t know how to get it back.

I could come up with a list of reasons for how I became a procrastinator. I could blame my desire for a social life in college, and the drinking and partying that came with it. I could blame the jobs I’ve taken since college, which don’t seem to challenge me and where there never seems to be quite enough work to keep me busy. I could blame my smart phone, which I didn’t have in high school, and is a constant distraction. I could blame my lack of sleep or my poor diet. I could blame the people in my life who demand my attention.

But the truth is I only have myself to blame.

But that tomorrow never happens. Instead I make excuses. “I’m tired.” “I don’t feel like it.” “I’ll do it later.” And I find other things to do. Other ways to waste my time.

I wish I could tell you how to find the self-discipline to beat procrastination. I wish had the cure, the answers, the solution. But I don’t.

I’m still struggling. I’m struggling to even finish this article. I want to stop. To save it in my drafts. Finish it later. But I know that later never comes. If I don’t write this article now, finish it, publish it, then it will be stuck in draft purgatory, where I have several others waiting for my non-existent motivation to kick in.

I wish I could go back and talk to my 16-year-old self. The one who had drive and who enjoyed hard work. I would ask her how she did it. What made her so determined? And how can I become her again?

I’m not sure what she would say. She probably wouldn’t know anymore than I do. Because I think motivation and drive are a sort of magic. Something inside you that you can’t just wish to existence. It’s who you are. Something that clicks in your brain. A state of being that you didn’t fabricate or fake.

Do you know where to find this magic? And if so, can you share some with me?

Written by

Copywriter. Blogger. Wife. Bibliophile. Romcom Lover. Tea Addict. Grammar Nerd. Email me: maria.elharaoui@gmail.com

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