anatomy of an all-nighter, or: a procrastination sonata in c minor

As finals season approaches, I present you with a topic that is very near and dear to me, perhaps too much so: the All-Nighter.  No lengthy introduction needed; I know this tune by heart so I’ll just dive into it..

Stage one, 4-7pm: Denial.  You have all the time in the world.  Five pages?  Nothing!  You’ve done it a million times over, it’ll take maybe 4 hours, tops.  Why not do some things around the house, catch up on the emails you’ve been meaning to write, update your CV.  Hand wash all of the clothes you’ve been meaning to hand wash.  Make a ‘Doing Laundry’ playlist.  Organize your desk in a way that will maximize productivity, for when the time comes.  Make a ‘Writing my Essay’ playlist.  Call your mom just to say hi.  Go to the newsstand to buy a magazine, decide to read it in the park.  Come up with your Next Great Idea, which you wish you could start writing but can’t because this essay is due tomorrow morning.  Come back home because you’re starting to get hungry. 

8pm: Dinner.  You have to have dinner- I mean, everyone’s gotta eat, right?  Look up a recipe in one of Jamie Oliver’s cookbooks that’s been sitting on your shelf unused since you moved in.  Decide that since you’ve committed to cooking you might as well do something creative.  Become inspired by the foreword and decide that you’re now only going to start eating fruits and vegetables that are In Season.  Google what fruits and vegetables are In Season.  Call your mother and have a discussion about becoming a ‘locavore.’  Talk to her about your childhood.  Plan a three-course menu for yourself based on your new-found passion, realize that you only have the ingredients for two of the courses in your possession.  Make a list of all of the things you need, go to the market, buy all of these Very Necessary Items, in addition to the soy version of every food product you’ve ever eaten.  Look up the nutrition facts of soy on your iPhone while waiting in line to pay for all of your Certified Organic Products.  Download an Organic Foods app.  Feel very impressed with this new path you’re embarking on, pick up some chocolate to reward yourself.  It’s not organic or anything, but you remember reading an article about dark chocolate being better for you than regular chocolate, so it’s okay.  Get home, make a playlist for your romantic one-person meal.  Think for at least ten minutes for what you should call it, come up with something clever, become so amused with yourself that it becomes clear you obviously deserve some of the chocolate you just bought, even if it’s not organic.  Send a self-deprecating text message to your friend about being single and eating chocolate.  Eat dinner, do the dishes even though you never do the dishes.  Take out the garbage, and in doing so realize it’s actually kind of a nice night and a good walk around the block would probably help you focus, you know, get in the Right State of Mind to Work.  On your way home realize it’s almost 11pm and you should probably start working. 

Stage two: The night begins.  11:15pm.  Write an introduction.  Read it out loud.  Record a video of yourself reading it out loud on your computer.  Try it again on the sepia tone setting.  Put make up on because you realize you look horrible in this video - even though you’re going to delete 5 seconds after you finish just in case anyone ever finds it - record it again for one last time just to see yourself reading your introduction looking decent. 

You’ve finished your introduction!  Good job!  You reward yourself with an episode of 30 Rock and some more of that chocolate.  When the episode is over, realize that there are chocolate stains all over your sheets.  Send a self-deprecating email to your other friend about the likelihood of being single for the rest of your life.  Call your mother again, discuss how all of this is Intrinsically Tied to the Events of Your Childhood.  Send a Facebook message to your gay best friend about adopting a child together once you finish your Master’s.  Google “adoption.”  Google baby names, pick out your favorites.  Become concerned with the fact that you’ve chosen more girl names then boy names, and that you’ll have less options to choose from if it’s a boy.  Become concerned with the fact that they probably wouldn’t be French citizens.  Google French citizenship rules.  Decide Los Angeles would probably be a better place to raise children anyway.  Read a few parenting blogs.  Realize that this is going too far and you should probably go back to work. 

1:30am.  Write another page.  It takes 30 minutes. You have TWO PAGES!!  Think to yourself about how easy it’s going to be to finish this in like an hour, don’t even worry about it.  Think about how well-rested you’re going to be in the morning.  Plan your outfit.  Put lipstick on, just to see how it will go with the outfit.  Wonder how Oprah plans her outfits.  Search for “Oprah” on YouTube and an hour later realize that you’ve been watching 4-minute clips of Oprah interviews for an hour.  Google “The Secret” and then practice visualization exercises relating to your essay being finished. 

3am: Write a paragraph.  Take a break to look at interior design blogs, become overwhelmed with inspiration.  Write down all of the things you want to buy at Ikea, take inventory of all of your kitchenware, become dissatisfied with the homogeneity of your plates.  Consider taking a pottery class.  Google pottery classes in Paris.  Almost sign up for one but realize you can’t because you already have class during that time.  Become emotional about your potential talent as a ceramicist being squandered by grad school.  Muse about how you’re really a creative person at heart and can’t be boxed in by things like Schedules and Commitments.  Draw a self portrait.  Look up flights from Paris to Costa Rica.  Write a really good few couple of sentences in your paper, become pleased with yourself about your ability to balance your passions and your obligations.  Take a pee break.  Cut your nails. 

Stage three: Self hatred.  5am.  You’ve written a total of three pages, and the fatigue is starting to get to you, but it’s not like you’ve never stayed up this late before.  Something feels different; something is definitely wrong. 

Convince yourself you’re dying so you are filled with grandiose emotions and a sense of impending demise.  Google your symptoms, become increasingly convinced that you have a rare, incurable disease.  Wonder if it’s genetic. Google genealogy.  Almost pay $15 for one of those programs that traces your family tree.  Call your mom to ask her about family disease history but don’t tell her why so she doesn’t get too worried. Think about how bad it would have to get for you to tell your family you’re dying. Email your best friend to tell her how much you appreciate her friendship.  Make a playlist for your funeral, but just call it ‘Songs of Despair and Profound Introspection,’ just in case anyone else sees it, but write a note called ‘Last Requests’ and put it in your Secret Documents Folder specifying that the playlist is actually for your funeral. Add a Justin Beiber song just so if anyone sees the playlist on your iTunes and asks you about it, you can tell them the playlist title was ironic.  Hope that they don’t play the Justin Beiber song at your funeral.

Begin to think about your spirituality.  Google your star sign.  Resonate immediately with all of the attributes associated with your horoscope, learn about your ‘elements,’ ‘colors,’ that you’re simultaneously both an introvert and an extrovert- which you never really have thought of before, but realize that it’s So True.

Google the star signs of everyone you’ve ever dated, and as you read how their star signs relate to yours begin to see why exactly your relationships were doomed to fail from the start.  Really start to believe in horoscopes.  Google what star signs ARE romantically compatible with yours, decide that you should approach your love life such that you can achieve optimal astrological harmony.  Facebook stalk everyone you’ve ever been potentially interested in just to see if your star signs are compatible.

Stage four, 6:30am.  Home stretch.  You realize your class is in three and a half hours and you haven’t finished your essay.  Make yourself an elaborate breakfast so you can write the last page on a full stomach.  Google power breakfasts.  Lament the fact that you can’t make a power shake because you don’t own a blender.  Look up blender prices.  Eat your breakfast.  Finish the essay.  It’s 8:30am.  You don’t have the energy to be self-congratulatory.  Vow you’re never going to let yourself do this again. 

Decide to go to school early so you can print your essay with enough time to spare.  Realize that you are actually quite pleased with yourself for arriving to class on time.  Send a text message to your friend saying how tired you are.  She says that she was up all night writing a paper and you say that you were too. 

“Grad school, man,” you write.

“Yeah man,” she replies.

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