I have this thing against rest.
It’s not a healthy thing, really. It’s just a thing.
You’d think I’d have gotten over it by now.
It started, I think, when I was a kid…I despised bedtime. With a bloody passion. I honestly thought my parents had these totally cool plans after they tucked me in and I was missing out. To make matters infinitely worse, the concept of “bedtime” (for me, anyway) extended straight through high school. All of my friends got to stay up later than I got to stay up. My lights had to be out by 9:30 on a school night, and the only exceptions? Homework. A particularly difficult upcoming test. A paper I didn’t have completely finished the night before the due date. Guess what spectacularly helpful trait I developed in order to push back bedtimes??
Yep.
Procrastination.
Awesome.
Even worse, I didn’t really require as much sleep as I was encouraged to get. So I would lay in bed. Stare at the ceiling. Imagine things that weren’t there. While active imaginations have their place…it is not in a pitch black bedroom. Or when your parents are watching TV and you can hear every word of the dialogue. I remember getting all worked up and walking into the living room so many times, crying, “I can’t sleep! Can you PLEASE turn that DOWN???”
I remember mild irritation from my parents.
Ahem.
College was like a long-awaited dream. I could go to bed whenever I felt like it. I could sleep as much or as little as I wanted. Well, except for the fact that freshmen were required to be in the dorm by 11 pm. Whatever. I averaged probably 4 or 5 hours of sleep a night…and it turned out…that’s really all I needed. I did my homework late. Took walks through the woods, drank coffee and ate ramen noodles with friends during the day, and…put everything off until the very last minute. The problem? I got good at it. First semester, freshman year? 3.85 cumulative average. Not perfect, but…umm…yeah. Fine by me. And when did I write my papers? Start research projects? Complete assignments? You guessed it. The night (or hour) before they were due.
But did I nap every afternoon or sleep for 18 hours a night or stay in bed until 2 in the afternoon if I skipped classes (and I skipped the occasional class)? Heck no!! I found classes at the gym. Tried out for a traveling-every-weekend ministry team. Drove to Olean (because it was the closest real town with a Perkins). Walked through the woods. Cross Country Skied. Played games on the quad. Argued with my roommate about the finer points of Calvinism and Arminianism (not my finest couple of days).
So what happens to a night-owl, procrastinating college student when she hits actual life and reality?
Nothing. No change. Fast-foward 20 years…and I’m still that girl. I survive best on six hours of sleep. This…is just who I am. And I procrastinate. I’m good at it. Does it cause stress that I could avoid if I did something intelligent…like plan? Mmhmm. Am I likely to change?
Hmm.
Probably not.
In the meantime, I think I’ll figure out what to do while the kids watch this movie we’ve already seen. And eat chocolate chip cookie dough (and likely contract salmonella). And build legos. Maybe hit the treadmill for that run I put off this morning. Or build that owl for the top of the cake that needs to be delivered Sunday.
Wait, what am I thinking? That would be working ahead.
😉
All Is Grace 