The exorcism of Trop

I have an annoying, self- destructive trait. I am an avoider. A procrastinator. I function in the last minute.

Most of the time this doesn't present a serious problem. I'll back myself into a corner and then stressfully get a thing done with not a moment to spare.

Of course, with the not-a-moment-to-spare stress comes the adrenaline rush.

It's the adrenaline I need. That's why things get delayed. I can't seem to move without that adrenaline. Can I get it in pills?

It was like this with my dissertation. I knew I should be writing daily; this wasn't something that was going to get done at the last minute. But I function in the last minute. It's always been that way with me.

It's a fucking curse.

About my dissertation, a wise person told me "When the pain of not doing it becomes greater than the pain of doing it, you'll get it done." So I focused on the pain of not doing it, and that drove me forward.

Back then my pain threshold was a lot lower than it is today.

I have a project with a client that's been weighing me down since last October.

I could have finished it off before things got really busy, but I just couldn't make myself work on it. Then things got busy, and it was the project that always got bumped down in priority. What was supposed to be a three week timeline stretched into three months. Then four. I started losing sleep. I lost my appetite. Yet I still couldn't work on the project.

It became like a toothache that had gone on for so long and hurt so bad that I wanted to grab the pliers and yank it out myself.

On Wednesday, I finally did it. It took me all of 10 hours.

I feel like I've been through an exorcism.


Had I done that 10 hours of work months ago I could have avoided so much agony. I've done it to myself so many times. And I'll surely do it again.