The Procrastinator's Creed

I believe that if anything is worth doing, it would have been done already.

I shall never move quickly, except to avoid more work or find excuses.

I will never rush into a job without a lifetime of consideration.

I shall meet all of my deadlines directly in proportion to the amount of bodily injury I could expect from missing them.

I firmly believe that tomorrow holds the possibility for new technologies, astounding discoveries, and a reprieve from my obligations.

I truly believe that all deadlines are unreasonable regardless of the amount of time given.

I shall never forget that the probability of a miracle, though infinitesimally small, is not exactly zero.

If at first I don't succeed, there is always next year.

I shall always decide not to decide, unless of course I decide to change my mind.

I shall always begin, start, initiate, take the first step, and/or write the first word, when I get around to it.

I obey the law of inverse excuses which demands that the greater the task to be done, the more insignificant the work that must be done prior to beginning the greater task.

I know that the work cycle is not plan/start/finish, but is wait/plan/plan.

I will never put off tomorrow, what I can forget about forever.

I will become a member of the ancient Order of Two-Headed Turtles (The Procrastinator's Society) if they ever get it organized.

(source unknown)

I found out purely by chance (some time during the Great Sugar Rush of August 2008) that I was actually one of the top ten students in my year (Oh God, I feel about 12 when I say something so horrifically …. ttudent-y). I only realized this because Drag told me that he wanted to get in on this masterclass course the Uni conducts during the holidays. I expressed my disdain for what was clearly yet another feeble attempt to extricate more hard-earned cash out of already-impoverished students, which was when he told me that (a) only the top students are invited to join the classes and (b) if you’re invited, they’re free.

I had received an invitation every year. And promptly marked it as spam. Oops.

But the point of this is not that I’m apparently a stellar student (a thought that makes me want to be drunk in a corner and figure out how thy managed to replace the real world with this freaky new one without me noticing), but that given my workin style, one thing is teribly clear:

Procrastination. Works.

Slinky = 1. Slinky’s mother = 0.