I feel attacked.
No, not really.
Yesterday at school they had a seminar on preparing for the exam that is to be done prior to starting a dissertation. And how to avoid procrastination.
My nearest and dearest will tell you I am a procrastinator. I’ve been one for a long time. And no matter the strategies I’ve learned about, and programs I’ve tried to self-teach to not be a procrastinator, it has been to no avail.
To do lists.
Masterfully crafted schedules.
Pomodoro timer technique, where every hour is chopped up in to 25-minute segments. And you are supposed to go on to something different after the segment. Until the work is all done. This works okay.
Minutely written howler lists that I write myself. A howler is a yelling device that Harry Potter utilizes to have the parents long distance yell at their kids. I use these as a way to prioritize what needs to be done.
No idea why.
No idea how to train myself NOT to be a procrastinator.
Not much helps.
For example, this week I had a 1-page paper due in the Financial Longevity class I picked up last week, a 45-minute philosopher presentation that I had to give on Friday that needed a PowerPoint made to help deliver the remarks, and a statistics midterm that is due on Sunday.
I spent the week doing the reading for the philosopher presentation and witing the pilosopher script and PowerPoint. And the reading for my new class, including an outline for the paper due yesterday. And the studying for my statistics midterm. And blog writing, and outlining the major papers I have beginning in a month. And the philosophy midterm just dropped, a 20-page paper on four different philosophers and what was learned in class due next Sunday.
I am learning something and working every day.
So why do I feel like I am not doing enough?
And writing it down shows me that I am not behind. It just feels like I am.
As I joked to one of the PhD professors living through a pandemic, well, working through a pandemic on the front lines wrecked my brain. After all, when every day is do or die at the hospital, what is the point of a 20-page paper?
Nevertheless, I soldier on. Even if my brain feels sluggish.
I wonder how much of that is the pandemic fatigue that all nurses I know have, how much is recovering workaholic fatigue, and how much is true procrastination.
Hmm. Must ponder that.
There is a Gaelic saying that I printed up for my desk translated into English it means ‘Don’t Lose Heart’. And I’ve offered a copy to those in my cohort. As I feel we are all in the same boat.
There is a post-it on my laptop in my dining room desk that I wrote the same saying on. Right next to the post-it with my favorite reminder from Elyse Meyers, “I Just Do Things Scared.”