The Procrastinator's Manifesto

We have been up all night, my friends and I, in front of bright computer screens as bright as our potential, but unlike this light we lack the ability to be powered up by an outer force. We cannot work until the moment of truth. And trampling underfoot the right to sleep on fluffy beds and soft pillows, we have been throwing together thoughts up to the limits of our time, until we have seemingly worthwhile scrawls of forced writing.

Our minds were filled with the desire to move onward, a passionate urge to face the army of homework encamped in our backpacks. Surrounded by others sharing the same will, surrounded in a car driving home to success, surrounded by papers and notebooks stacking sky high as we loiter.

Then we are suddenly distracted by the beats of a drum that go pounding at our ears, a flash of light from the phone beside us. They're celebrating a Tuesday, which threatens our resolve and will, and, at the spur of a moment, takes us downtown in one swoop.  

Then the thunderous noise increased. As we listen to Party Rock and Gangnam Style. And even those of us at home sit with weapons of mass distractions at hand, pondering which to test out first.

"We have time!" I cried. "Let's go! We can surely finish when we get back home. We'll leave at Noon and have nine hours to work. Plus there's Sunday don't forget. We'll have all the time in the world, no need to fret. Let's go! These movies won't watch themselves. And baseball is good for our physical health. Nothing can stop us; we've got the world at our feet! Nothing equals the splendor of a Saturday well spent. TGIF? Who cares about that?"
We went up to the field with teams of three bound to impress. I took my place at home and wound up my throwing arm, but I suddenly felt that something was wrong. A crippling remembrance of homework due too soon brought me back to the towering space in my room. What's this? What's that? A manifesto that's due? Chapter seven AP government review? AP psychology reading and math homework too? Oh no this is bad… what can I do? "Hey Hannah!" they shout, "Next bat is for you."

And we hit homeruns and catch groundballs laughing, like hyper hyenas, and tonight we are living.

But now it's Sunday, and we are hung-over with last night's festivities, and we don't know if we can move our wretched limbs. There is nothing to keep us from this unrest, unless we surrender to our work at last.  

And the media has us at full throttle, watching cats on You Tube before we can direct our minds to the task at hand. Time, fleeing at every corner, moves towards the sunset at the end of our crunch time road.

"Let's do the right thing. Oh wait look at this! Hmm? What was I saying? Oh it's only two, come now, we have seven hours for this. Let's go and feed our lives to this new game. It'll be fun and our hand-eye coordination will improve."

As soon as I said these words I evacuated my work station and suddenly there was my mother in the way. Her eyes, disapproving as they are green, swiveled in front of me. With a sudden urge to escape I flee. Chores? I don't have time! My homework is on the line! [Although it is in the opposite direction…] I'll do them tomorrow, no, the weekend! I'll have much more time then. And by weekend I, of course, mean the next one. Who am I kidding; my life's getting in the way. And as realization strikes me I fly face first [KABAM!] into the pit of procrastination.  

Curses, pit of procrastination, half full with desired endeavors! I felt the rough fuzz of capricious carpet scruff my face. So this is rock bottom? It's not as dark as I thought. But a nap would be nice; perhaps we could turn off the lights… whoa Nelly! What's this?! The sun's already deceased? And with a strong panicky feeling I leap to my feet.

I run to my trusty steed, my computer of so many years, and without a wink of hesitation I open my doc and Explorer tabs. Music? Why not? Oh this looks good, a music video too! Wait… it's eight o'clock. We'll finish our homework even is it kills us! Our last will and testament is below.

[MANIFESTO OF PROCRASTINATION]
1. We reserve the right to finish our work at the very last second.
2. The essential elements of our poetry will be delay, panic, and sleep deprived success.
3. Up till now we have been discredited as lazy, unfulfilled, and dilly dalliers. We want to make it clear that while we may be most of the above statements, it works to our benefit and we produce some of our greatest works. Sure we will be angry, upset, and rushed at the time, but in the long run we know we need this momentary lapse. And if procrastination does not work this well for you, perhaps you should consider a new line of attack.
4. We believe that a person is a person not matter how slow… but keep in mind that when it comes to work we can go from zero to one-hundred in one final go.
5. We don't let our work slip by us unfinished. It's the opposite of that. We will finish our work faster than the turtle because we are the hare that suddenly kicks it into high gear.
6. While paced workers will look down on us we won't be looking at them. We might glance at them at the last minute, just before we take our fifth nap of the day.
7. We will do our homework in class, but only the homework that is due that day. If it's due tomorrow or in a week or two, rest assured that we will be smelling the roses and watching the grass grow. We are competent in our own special ways.
8. We maintain the right to complain about how we never have enough time. Ultimately, we simply want more time to procrastinate.
9. We want to glorify "wasted time." It's the wasted time that makes our sloth like lives complete.
10. We will stay up until three in the morning if we have to because even though we procrastinate that does not mean we do not finish what we know needs to be done.
11. We will never use our time wisely. Procrastination is a habit better broken tomorrow or the next day. But by God we will complete our work at the last second before the bell tolls.

It is in school that we are issuing this manifesto because most procrastinating adults don't take it much farther. Once they leave school they learn efficiency and time management. But today we are finding new ways to make procrastination professional. We can do more if we are dead tired and have only an hour left to complete a task.

For too long schools have destroyed a procrastinator's ideals, but look at us! We are the A+ students of the new world. Could procrastination be that devastating?

Procrastination, being proactive, what's the difference as long as it gets done? Yes, there is the issue of how well it is done, but I, and many others, do better when thrown under pressure. No pressure, no motivation, that's my motto. Do you want us to fail because we can't put things off? Do you understand the bags under our eyes?

What can you find in timely work besides carefully constructed thought that holds nothing spontaneous, nothing that matches the true raw nature of a human mind?

To spend your time working diligently is noble that I won't deny, but what of the rest of your life? Do you want to focus only on work when you could learn to crunch time and make room for other events? Wouldn't you rather feel the rush of attempting to finish your work in forty-five minutes?

Indeed procrastination [a misunderstood method of doing work] may not work for all types of people, but we are the thriving procrastinators with too much time on our hands to get anything done.

Our kind has existed for thousands of years! We are the last minute voters, the late risers, the dabblers, the half dressed, the occasionally smelly, the laundry heapers, the "wake me later" types, the "oh I have till December to turn in my college applications" sorts, and, of course, the "oops I have less than thirty minutes" kinds.

But we shall not fall behind the early birds, and early decision folks, the "I'll jump on this now" guys, or the "I've finished already" selection. We will be waiting until the sun dips below the horizon, when the moon is closest to us and we can see the stars in the deep blue sky. And when the time comes we will finish with only a minute to spare.

We have been up all night, my friends and I, in front of bright computer screens throwing together thoughts up to the limits of our time, until we have seemingly worthwhile scrawls of forced writing.  Staring at the clock waiting for it to give way we know that we have done what we needed to do by the end of the day.