Why Am I Procrastinating?

Do you remember that feeling of determination you get when you look at your to-do list and realize that you have a whole day ahead of you? Yes, I also do not. As if I were defusing a bomb in an action movie, my to-do list and I have this strange relationship where I only want to tackle it at the last possible moment, with my heart racing, adrenaline pumping, and an imaginary countdown counting down. (Well, I'll just say that my sanity is about to explode.)

How come I put things off till later? Would you say sloth? Are you afraid? Does it stem from an innate knowledge that I perform best when challenged? Another possible explanation is because YouTube's algorithm is so good at predicting when you might be interested in watching a "Top 10 Unnecessary Inventions" video. My procrastination habits are tragically funny, so let's dive in.

The Morning Resolution: A Fallacy That Every One Of Us Tells

This is the day that I will get things done! That's how every morning begins. As if I were a military commander, I tell myself this. However, I quickly find myself engrossed in a never-ending cycle of checking my phone, browsing Instagram, and deciding between cereal and toast for breakfast—an obviously thought-provoking choice. Two hours have passed, and all I can claim as my day's accomplishment is like a photo of avocado toast.

Who am I fooling if I do this? I mean, I want to be a grownup, I have things I want to accomplish, and I have due dates. The draw of evading responsibility outweighs my determination to succeed, though. **Absolutely Not** and **Do All the Things** seem to be the two settings on my head.

The Overwhelming Illness

Feel Absolutely Overwhelmed by My To-Do List But Do Nothing About It* is the name of a game that I play sometimes. Following the rules is easy:

1. Review the inventory.

2. Feel a sense of panic.

3. I'll sort my spice rack by alphabetical order to distract myself.

In all honesty, I put things off till later because dealing with so many things at once is like trying to climb Mount Everest without a Sherpa, an oxygen tank, or any fame. Expectations that have not been met are the only thing that matters, along with the infrequent passive-aggressive email reminders. How about I propose a solution? Stop doing anything and give my future self the reins. Me in the future always looks so competent. That fool.

The Dysfunctional Idealist

Ah, perfectionism—the archetypal paradoxical virtue. While I strive for perfection in all that I do, the mere idea of making a mistake makes me want to hide under a blanket and watch reality TV all day. Given the likelihood of failure, why even try? I end myself putting things off because I tell myself I need "a better plan" or the "right mindset" before I can get going. Warning: I'm constantly searching "how to stop procrastinating" on Google, so that plan never comes to fruition. How ironic!

Subject: The "But First" Syndrome

My usual method of putting things off till later is this:

My project has to be started.2. However, before I do that, I need to check my email.*

Thirdly, I see that online store I adore is having an email sale. Look around for a bit. This sweater is something I should get. It’ll motivate me to work harder.

5. Wait, did I ever text my friend back?

6. I’ll just scroll TikTok for inspiration.

7. Oh no, it’s 4 p.m. already? Better grab a snack before I get started.

By the time I’m ready to actually start working, the day is over, and I’m left wondering how on earth time moves so fast. Scientists should really study this phenomenon. I’m convinced procrastinators experience some kind of weird time warp.

The “I Work Better Under Pressure” Lie

Do I really work better under pressure, or am I just addicted to the thrill of narrowly avoiding disaster? There’s something weirdly satisfying about pulling off a last-minute miracle. It’s like starring in my own personal action film, except instead of saving the world, I’m submitting a report to my boss at 11:59 p.m. The adrenaline is real, but so is the stress-induced acne.

Honestly, though, I think this whole “working better under pressure” thing is just an excuse. What I’m really saying is, *I’m too lazy to start early, but too terrified to fail entirely.* It’s a delicate balancing act that somehow keeps me functioning—barely.

The Distraction Buffet

Let’s be real: the world is designed for procrastinators. Everywhere I look, there’s a shiny new distraction begging for my attention. Netflix asks if I’m still watching (*yes, obviously*). My phone pings with notifications. Even my dog stares at me with big, guilt-tripping eyes, like, *Are we not going for a walk today?*

The worst part? I know I’m falling into the procrastination trap, but I convince myself that these distractions are somehow necessary. *Watching this documentary will make me more informed!* *Scrolling Pinterest is research for future projects!* *Organizing my closet is a form of self-care!*

And yet, my actual tasks remain untouched. It’s almost impressive, really.

The Existential Spiral

Sometimes, procrastination isn’t just about avoiding work—it’s about avoiding *thinking* too much. If I sit down to tackle something meaningful, there’s a 95% chance I’ll fall into an existential spiral. *What’s the point of this?* *Am I even good at this?* *Why did I ever choose this career?* And before you know it, I’m questioning the meaning of life while eating cold pizza at my desk.

So…Why Do I Do It?

After much soul-searching (read: procrastinating on writing this blog), I think I’ve finally figured it out. I procrastinate because it’s easier. It’s safer. It’s a way to avoid discomfort, whether that’s fear of failure, the stress of starting something big, or just plain old boredom.

And honestly? It’s kind of funny in a tragic, self-sabotaging way. But now that I’ve spent 900 words unpacking my procrastination habits instead of, you know, doing something productive, I feel a little better. At least now I know why I procrastinate.

The real question is: what am I going to do about it?

Well, that’s a problem for Future Me.