I heard on the radio this morning that it is once again National
Procrastination Week. I've been thinking of writing about this subject but, well, never found quite the right time. Since I didn't have a definite topic in mind for this week's column, though, I'd like to take this opportunity to defend--or at least try to explain --the fine art and bad habit of procrastination.

Procrastinators have often been accused of being lazy, but you have only to follow one around for a day to realize that procrastination actually requires a tremendous amount of energy. Truly lazy people avoid activity. When they do finally put themselves in motion, they plod, poke and resist every step.
Procrastination, on the other hand, involves a great deal of low-level activity as the procrastinator attempts to avoid the one thing she should be doing until the last possible moment. The reasons for this evasion are many, and some will be discussed later in this column.

First, I want to explain that procrastinators are unparalleled optimists. We believe that the mail will come on schedule, the predicted Nor'easter won't come at all, and that nothing dire will befall us or our vehicle on our way to the airport. We're convinced that nothing will get in our way when we finally get around to doing what it is we're supposed to be doing.

Consequently, we also consistently underestimate the amount of time it will take us to complete a task. We can easily convince ourselves that a job should only take us an hour when, in fact, most people would budget two hours for the same assignment.

Which leads me to my next point: procrastinators enjoy being challenged. There's a certain adrenaline rush that comes from running against the clock. Many of the athletes at the recent winter Olympics not only competed against each other but they also raced to beat their own personal best times. And, like
people who engage in extreme sports or other thrill-seeking adventures, procrastinators soon find there's a kick in just surviving the experience.

When I was in college, I had plans to see George Carlin but I'd put off writing my Art History paper, which was due the next day. A more studious student would have sold her seat and pulled an all-nighter to do the paper. Not me. I went to the show then pulled the all-nighter.

As I recall, I got an A- on that paper. True, I might have been able to get an A if I'd had time to read it over once, fine-tune it, then retype it without any errors (this was, sadly, pre-PCs), but at the time I was ecstatic with the A-. It felt like I'd somehow beat the system that said there was only one way to get good grades.

When people ask me how long it takes to write my column, I tell them that it takes me as long as I have. If I have a whole day until deadline, it takes me a whole day to write. If I started a week ahead of time, I'd spend the whole time tweaking and playing and not necessarily improving it much.

Which brings me to a stunning revelation: many procrastinators are actually perfectionists avoiding the fact that no matter how long they work on something, it can always be improved. Better to allot the shortest amount of time possible for the task than go crazy for hours and days tinkering and toying.There's nothing like a looming deadline to focus the mind and banish the inner critic.

In the course of writing this column I did some research on the Internet (the ultimate procrastination tactic) and I stumbled on an essay promoting "structured procrastination." Since procrastinators will typically do things lower down on their to-do list before they do the things at the top, the trick to success as a procrastinator lies in always having something else to do other than what we should be doing. As long as we do this, we can keep this self-delusional pyramid scheme going.

I believe that procrastination can actually result in more efficient use of time. For example, it drives my family nutty that I routinely let my gas gauge run to "E" before pulling into a gas station. They've explained the hazards of this practice but I continue to wait for the yellow light of caution.

If I go through one tank of gas per week, I ask, why should I take the time to stop for more at the halfway mark? That means two stops per week. Instead, I stop once, fill once, pay once.

Eventually, as with nearly empty gas tanks and looming column deadlines, procrastinators reach a point at which either a task must be completed or dire consequences will befall her. The gas gauge goes to "F" and the writer hits the "send" button on her e-mail program.

And the process begins again.