There’s a home video of me, about 8 years old, hair probably unkempt, playing while my dad’s voice booms behind the camera and asks, “Shouldn’t you be doing your homework?” I look at him defiantly and say, “It’s Saturday. SA-TUR-DAY. I don’t do work on Saturday.” And, except for occasional reading and writing assignments (because that’s what I love to do), I haven’t worked on Saturdays since.
Call it procrastination or just knowing that I need a break, but I’ve always put limits on my work time: nothing after 10pm on weekdays, on Friday evenings, on Saturdays, on Sundays before noon.
Today, drowning in a sea of grading that needs to be swallowed by Friday, I told myself I need to start working before noon. I always tell myself these things when I’m this stressed. But, as usual, I find a way to avoid it.
I’ll start in an hour.
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