As I sat writing notes for this column while clocking hours at my internship, I had an epiphany. Google has it exactly right: The company lets its employees spend 20 percent of their time at work on personal projects.
Why is this the right idea? Because, just as 90 percent of anything is crap, 20 percent of anyone’s time is spent fucking around — especially if you’re getting paid to have your behind in the correct chair. For insufferable overachievers, cut that percentage to between 10 and 15 percent. And for the rest, adjust that up to 25 percent — or, hell, even more, depending on how schooled you are in the art of procrastinado. For me, I’m lucky if any less than a third of my “work time” is spent with my mind elsewhere. (When scheduling, I adjust for inflation. An assignment that should take two hours takes three. And so on. It’s like paying a tax for A.D.D., except instead of paying with money, you pay with minutes and hours of your life.)
Even at UCSD, a world-class institution of learning where I expected to be surrounded by wall-to-wall, nose-to-the-grindstone types, procrastination is like a class that everyone takes, but which professors don’t acknowledge and that no one earns units for passing.
Instead, the value of this non-course is measured in cheap, quick thrills (like the joy of playing Internet poker while one’s boss lurks five feet away), then guilt, then frustration (when you realize you must pull an all-nighter if you want any hope of completing the paper that was assigned five weeks prior), then the bittersweet payoff of actually completing one’s work (bittersweet because, dammit, procrastination is sorta fun). Procrastination is so prevalent among UCSD students, you’re a freak if you don’t engage in it. My friends look at me like I’m crazy when, after they complain about poor grades or having to pull all-nighters, I bitchily tell them they could avoid the problem by not putting off their work, goddammit.
But, at the same time, I’m convinced that many friendships are founded and sustained on procrastination — we do need someone to talk to while putting off important work, after all (though one hates to be the Friend That Only Gets Called When The Other Person is Bored; that’s a low tier of social importance).
The mark of a truly professional procrastinator is that she spends her procrastination sessions doing the most inane shit possible. We’re talking activities that have no payoff whatsoever, except for a quick rush of adrenaline or cheap amusement. For guys, this means playing video games suited for 12-year-olds, furiously masturbating or gambling on the Internet. For girls, it’s all about the Holy Trinity: Grooming, Gossiping and Daydreaming.
So far this morning, for example, I’ve redone my hair, checked my nails (twice), picked lint off my blazer (for ten minutes), written four pages of notes to myself, checked my voice mail and dreamily stared out the window while daydreaming about God-knows-what for God-knows-how-long — all without getting a lick of actual work done. A procrastinator’s home run, if you’ll allow me a small moment of gloating.
Things would be different if the Internet connection at my office wasn’t down today; I would’ve obsessively checked and rechecked all my e-mail accounts (even the spam ones) and checked every news, gossip and entertainment Web site I know — even the sucky ones.
This morning was a true exercise in experiential learning. My Procrastination 101 professor, if he existed, would be truly proud.
Web surfing when one has nothing else to do is boring; Web surfing while under pressure to do something else is thrilling fun. So many Web sites and forums postings — so little time! And gossiping is so much more interesting when other activities are pressing. Talking about my friend’s boyfriend’s cousin? Boring, until a deadline comes within 24 hours of the present. There’s nothing that screams “I have cell phone minutes to waste on inane conversations” like “Paper due at 9 a.m. tomorrow.”
Why is that? What evil natural law makes silly activities so much more compelling when important tasks beckon? Why do TV shows turn fascinating when I’ve got a deadline to meet? Why does my mind dance with dreams of weekend shenanigans when penalties for late papers are breathing down my neck? Why, for the love of Christ, can I only bring myself to do laundry or make my bed when I’m late completing one assignment and clueless about another? God truly has a cruel sense of humor. Or maybe I need Adderall. I’m not sure.
As truly top-notch procrastinators must have picked up on, however, I’m only a grade-B responsibility-shirker (though, after trying many new recipes while I have papers to write, I bake damn good cookies). My problem is that, when skirting some duty or another, I do productive things (for the most part). Mindless Web surfing and lint-picking only take up a small portion of my procrastination time. For much more precious work time, I will cook a nice dinner, clean my room, respond to e-mails, shop for groceries, delete old files from my computer, wash my car and catch up with old friends. In fact — I hate to admit this — my most productive moments come while procrastinating. Is this a sign I should work at Google? Who knows. But, I fear the day I’m at a loss for dull schoolwork to put off. Because that’ll be the day I don’t get a damn thing done.
