I just wiped off the tops of my washer and dryer, and then went back with a damp cloth to purge every bit of dust. They’ve never looked so clean and fresh. I should take a few pictures to submit to a home magazine — I could probably win a contest for washing washers. Hmm, I must have a deadline coming up.
I have a complicated history when it comes to deadlines. Call it a love/hate relationship. I depend on deadlines to force me to finish whatever it is that I’m working on. Left to my own devices, I would probably still be trying to finish a succession of five-paragraph essays from high school or complete my tax forms from 1996. That doesn’t mean I have to love the deadline. The very sight of a deadline fills me with the urge to resist, thus setting off that basic human reaction, the procrastination response. What can I do to avoid doing what I need to do? It sounds like a game show: “What Will You Do Instead?” The host presents you with a task and then gives you four choices of increasingly daring alternatives, to judge your commitment to procrastination. The contestant who successfully avoids the original task in the most outrageous fashion wins.
Sometimes it takes a lot of energy to shake off the dust from the inner recesses of my mind in order to come up with great ideas and well-crafted content. How much energy does it take to dust off a washing machine and throw in a load of towels? I hate to think that I would choose cleaning my washing machine in preparation for doing laundry overwriting a clever essay for the newspaper, but the evidence is clear. Those pristine photos in the home magazine don’t lie.
Consider the concept of “procrasti-learning,” where you do a deep dive into your research or take a dozen craft courses to fill the time that should be spent on your project. It’s easy to justify this kind of time-wasting because you end up wiser than you were before. All the learning has value, right?
In my case, I am challenged by “procrasti-cleaning.” It’s amazing how urgently my floor needs to be vacuumed and mopped when there’s a pressing deadline. It might even be time to wash the windows and finally get around to organizing the junk drawer. This act of cleaning also has value. Remember, the adage goes, “cleanliness is next to godliness,” not “punctuality is next to godliness.” I wonder if my editor would agree…
The closer my deadline is, the cleaner my house gets. But there is a tipping point. At some point, I bow to the reality that the deadline controls my life. The time for resistance is over: now is the time to buckle down and do what needs to be done to meet the deadline. At this point in the deadline equation, my stellar housekeeping efforts cease. No more clearing out the closet and repapering the shelves before putting the folded laundry away. Forget about folding! Who needs clean clothes anyway?
I developed a philosophy in college regarding deadlines. Call it my Definitive Deadline Declaration: “The time will come when this is finished.” I have no idea what’s going to happen between now and that fantastic moment when the task is finished, but I know I will get there in the end. I have to. Some might say that I am indulging in magical thinking. It’s true. I’ll try anything to get to the finish line. I’ve tried snapping my fingers, folding my arms and blinking twice, twitching my nose, and singing “Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo.” Nothing seems to help. Alas, my finished project does not magically appear before my eyes. I guess I have to sit down and actually do the work myself.
I like this inspirational quote: “What if it all works out?” I don’t know who came up with this idea, but I feel like we could be friends. Their positive-thinking idea clearly dovetails with my faith that the task will get finished on time simply because it has to.
My bathrooms are sparkling clean right now. How soon is that deadline?
• Peggy McKee Barnhill is a wife, mother, and author who writes cozy mysteries under the pen name “Greta McKennan.” She likes to look at the bright side of life
