Walking outside this week was like walking into a sauna. The air was sticky, but in a way pleasantly humid after the endless months I spent inside this winter. Rather than pathetically shivering and bemoaning the half-inch of snow on the ground, I swam in sweat all the way to class. I never do seem to be able to dress for the weather correctly.
On my way, I caught a smell in the air. It was subtle — barely recognizable over the scents of flowers and springtime which had been so long buried under the bleakness of winter. This smell stayed with me, twisting in my mind as I tried to pay attention in class. I attempted to ignore it, but it soon grew too strong. I was finally able to identify it concretely — the scent that emerges each time the weather turns warm. It was the smell of procrastination.
It entered my consciousness innocently enough, tugging gently here and there, convincing me that YouTube videos were more important than lectures or that my planner could stay closed for the day. Throughout the day, however, it grew stronger. One moment I was redirecting my computer from my notes to a picture of a cat, and the next, I had closed my notes entirely and was lost on the edges of the Internet.
I struggled with the procrastination, waging mental war as my classes passed by — telling myself I needed to work — but it wheedled away, refusing to give up. The little bugger has persistence.
“Come outside, come outside!” I could hear the warm air and shady gardens whispering as I walked from class to class. It was such a tantalizing sound, such a sweet melody that I found myself unable to resist its charm. It was like the scene in “The Wizard of Oz.” Despite my genuine academic intentions, all I wanted to do was run into the poppy field and fall asleep.
I found myself making excuses — no one really expected anyone to go to class on such a nice day, right? In fact, professors would probably be grateful if their students didn’t show up … that way, they could go out and enjoy the weather too! I’d be doing everyone a favor if I just dropped all my commitments for the day to lie in the grass like a slug.
With procrastination screeching at my back, pointing at TV shows, picnic baskets and puppies, I entered the library. Looking back over my shoulder, I could see procrastination silently crying as I walked away. “Goodbye, for now, my friend…” I whispered through the window.
I can still see it — waiting patiently for me to finish my work, its smell spreading, infecting people as they walk past. I can see it in everybody’s faces as they come up to the library door, think better of it, and walk away. They are off to enjoy their day outside and forget about everything else, as I soon will be. Hang in there buddy! I’m coming out to meet you!
Emily’s column runs biweekly Wednesdays. She can be reached at e.churchill@cavalierdaily.com.
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