By Christina Bivona, Inside Columnist

It took me three days to write this column. That might sound like an enormous amount of time, but I want to assure you there was a lot of dedicated time and effort that went into not writing it.

When it comes to procrastinating, I think of myself as a professional. I’m really good at what I do. Although I sometimes put off important things, I know I can produce great work in a short amount of time, and I have the grades to back it up. (Example:  I wrote a 10-page paper on Motown Records freshman year the morning it was due; I got an A+) It’s a blessing and a curse, but I know I’m not the only one who lives this kind of lifestyle.

When I woke up on Monday morning, the first thought in my head was, “I need to write this article.” But I couldn’t decide when – the timing just didn’t feel right. I was too tired, my head was in the clouds, I needed a cup of coffee, my computer battery was low – the list went on. Besides, I had more important things like class, homework, chapter and the gym. It was a lingering gray cloud above my head, so I did what any normal procrastinator would do: I forgot about it.

Monday and Tuesday were great. I went to all my classes, did all my readings, took notes for a class that I don’t usually even take notes for, went to the gym, took a fitness class, practiced my yoga poses, went out to dinner, grabbed some coffee with friends, took extra long showers, changed my outfit about 15 times, did my make up, called my mom, called my dad, hung out with my brother, went to chapter, went for a walk, went to the store, watched television, laid on my bed and stared at the ceiling and didn’t write my column.

Before I knew it, it was the day of, game day – my absolute deadline. My heart was beating a little faster than usual as I walked to the library. “I always do this,” I thought for the millionth time – but that’s the way I like to do my work. I like the time limit, the urgency.

I searched the floors for the perfect seat – not right next to a window in case the sun got too hot, not right under the air conditioning in case I got too cold and definitely not in a cubby with someone breathing down my neck. After finally finding a seat that was just right, I sat down and checked my Twitter, looked at pictures of puppies for 10 minutes and sent a Snapchat because – sad face – I was already “dying in the library.”

I watched the clock tick closer to the deadline as I settled down. My palms got a little clammy as I began to type an outline, but I felt alive. The wheels in my head were turning. My mind was finally clear and every sentence I put on paper was to the point and had a purpose, because there was no time for anything else. The words were laced on my fingertips; I simply typed them on the screen in front of me. There was no choice but to write with diligence until the article was finally complete.

I like to think us procrastinators bring new meaning to “seizing the moment.” We’re risk takers, or maybe we’re just bad at planning ahead, but at the end of the day, we’re up for the challenge whether we like it or not. As for my next column? I’ll worry about that tomorrow.

Photo courtesy Smath, Creative Commons.