I bought a book about procrastination

I decided that this was necessary to do after another day spent almost beginning to work, succeeded by an entire night spent awake working.

Not sleeping at all has bizarre effects on a person's body and brain. I remember reading a pro-weed article once--which might have been anti-weed--in which the author(s) claimed that smoking before a test is comparable to some amount of nights not sleeping, which I absolutely think is probable. I've had more instances of not being able to access the word I want to use since I've been not-sleeping than I am able to chuckle about.

Anyway, for a person who never tried any drugs because she was so afraid of the effect they might have on her precious, precious brain, I’m really doing a number on old squishy.

What I want to do instead is not that. More specifically, I’d like to start my work at 2pm on Saturday and have Sunday free rather than starting at 10pm on Sunday, being nervous about my work all weekend, and then never finishing and never having any time I could describe as “free.”

Still Procrastinating? The no-regrets guide to getting it done was written by Joseph R. Ferrari, Ph.D. I chose this book because the writer is a Phd—and apparently a big deal in the field of procrastination research. Lately I’ve been feeling like my procrastination (which is a word in need of a shorter, less dead-horse-beaten synonym) has a compulsive quality. I want to start working, I know waiting will only make me miserable, I hate that I’m not doing the work, I know if I just did a little it would be better than doing nothing, I know that the things I’m doing instead of work are absolutely useless, nonsense time-wasters, I feel as though I’m wasting my life doing this to myself, I have a list of things to do which occasionally describes these tasks in more manageable chunks. But I’m still not doing the work until the last minute or later.

I didn’t want a self-help book, but if I was going to buy a self-help book, I at least wanted the writer to be a person who understood that I might be too crazy to help myself.