I’ve come a long way from sleeping in Clem during first year. I carried the mentality that there is no room for error from high school to college. It was exhausting but for a noble cause. Or so I thought. I don’t recall the exact moment when I decided procrastinating was a healthier life choice for me. All I know is that I’m a happier person because of it.
By now, people know of my hectic ways. I’m five minutes late to everything, guaranteed. An assignment is due on Collab by midnight? Perfect, I’ll turn it in promptly — and rather frantically — at 11:59 p.m. I’ve dabbled in the practice of starting a paper the same day it’s due. Every semester I seem to max out on my excused absences for classes within the first few weeks, and for no other reason than because I can. I repeatedly sign up for events or volunteering sessions when I absolutely don’t have the time. I could undoubtedly make things easier on myself. However, by doing so I’d stand to lose the gains from procrastination and being scattered. And this is something I’m not willing to do.
Many deem it utter foolishness — namely my roommates who see me most when I’m running around in a general sense of mayhem during the week. And granted, even as I’m writing this and detailing the specifics of my off-kiltered lifestyle, I catch myself slipping into a mode of self-reprimanding where I begin to think to myself, “Madison, get your life together, please.” But my life is together, only not in the way most people would define “together.”
Sure, if I planned better I would mostly likely avoid brief moments of hysteria when I have too many thoughts racing through my head to formulate a concrete sentence. It’s also true that I often jumble words together or start to say something but trail off into silence because I’ve already thought of something else entirely. Without question I would sweat less if I allotted more time for the commute to classes and maybe I would sleep more if I didn’t start homework at 10 p.m. I’ve taken all of this into account, but the rewards of going through college with an acquiescence to disorder and confusion are things I’m unwilling to give up.
So far, I can say procrastination has the paved way for the experiences I’ll remember from the University, more so than the hours I spent huddled away in the library upon first coming here. Some people can do this. Many students here can work at a cubby on Clem 1 and not move for hours, but not me. It’s not as if I didn’t try that way at doing school, only I found myself miserable in the process of doing it as such. Though at the time I thought that struggle to be a worthy one, it was untrue to myself. I had caved to the pressure of trying to be the best in classes and sacrificed my own happiness for the sake of competition.
I’ve instead come to prioritize other means of remembering my time at U.Va. For example, I hike Humpback when, yes, I should technically be studying or going on outings in Charlottesville knowing full well the work I have ahead of me for the week. Consequently, some of my time is underlied with chaos, but these brief and sparse moments pale in comparison to the times I’m doing things I enjoy rather than buckling down in the library. Often we wrongfully assert that there’s only one right way to approaching our work or one right way to being a successful student. However, I don’t think it should be shameful to value play over work — so long as you’re not failing out. Thankfully I’ve discovered the benefits of procrastination and the alleviating truth that I’d rather be a happy slacker than miserable and punctual.
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