Procrastination

I know I said I'd write a post on this theme a while back, but I kept putting it off. [See what I did there? Ha, that's called humor!]

Seriously, though: "Hi, my name is GeekMom and I am a procrastinator." If there isn't a Twelve Step Program for this, there ought to be. Although I can appeal to a Higher Power all I like, my affliction doesn't seem to improve. Only fear seems to work: fear of public humiliation, fear of not meeting a deadline, fear of the stern look of disapproval on an authority figure's face. I have to create my own deadline for these blog entries and be my own stern authority figure in order to get them out in a timely fashion.

If there's a way of putting something off, I will, especially if it involves the writing down of coherent thought, or the filling out of forms. Thank God for accountants, or I would be under investigation by the IRS for never filing my taxes. But there are many other things one can put off nearly endlessly: trimming the hedge, washing the kitchen floor, taking the pets to the vet,  getting the car inspected, sending thank-you letters, doing the laundry, writing a blog entry on procrastination.... Paradoxically, these can all be used as procrastination devices in turn for an even more onerous task, such as organizing one's office files. I find I never have a cleaner kitchen than when I'm preparing to do some filing.

Toad's To-Do List

I wasn't always a procrastinator. As a young child, I constantly drew up schedules for myself and followed them rigorously. I would cross out each item as it was accomplished, as Toad did in Arnold Lobel's story "The List" that appears in his book, Frog and Toad Together. In elementary school, I always did my assignments as soon as possible. My mother was suspicious that I never seemed to have homework, because I would do it during lunch and recess and leave it in my desk at school (Yeah, I was a serious nerd, even at age 7).

Once I got to junior high, smaller assignments would be done while having my milk and cookies after school at the kitchen table, larger assignments would be done a week in advance. I would wait until the deadline to hand them in, though, so I wouldn't provoke the jealous ire (or ridicule) of my classmates. By then I was getting an inkling that being a nerd was not going to be a social advantage.

By high school, however, I was starting to slip. I'd do the last of my trig homework at midnight, or finish copying a paper over at breakfast (back when papers were written in cursive in pen--only our term papers required a typewriter (What's a typewriter, you ask? Oh Lord, you're making me feel old!)). I'd find myself folding my laundry or sharpening all my pencils or making myself increasingly elaborate snacks as the night wore on, while successfully avoiding any actual work.

 Then, with college and its concomitant lack of parental supervision and parentally supervised bedtimes came the dreaded All-Nighter, with its many cups of coffee and bleary, staring eyes, as I racked a brain that had mysteriously gone blank in my frantic quest for tree imagery in As You Like It or examples of the commodification of women in Thackeray's Vanity Fair. And finally appeared the fair and bewitching apparition of The Extension. Oh joy! To be given a day, two days, a week extra in order to complete a paper! Of course, you had to grovel before the Dean, but I learned to take groveling to a high art. I once callously used the premature and tragic death of someone I slightly knew from high school as an excuse for why I couldn't finish the paper in time, overcome as I was with grief at his passing. Even now I squirm with shame as I make my confession. Yes, I was shameless back then. And I still ended up staying all night to finish the paper, as I wrote nothing at all in the intervening week of grace.

So why do I procrastinate, if it makes my life so miserable? Why do any of us procrastinate? Well, as I'm a word geek, let's start with the origins of the word. It comes from Latin, the pro- meaning "forward," and crastinus meaning "of tomorrow" and its first known use was in 1548 by Edward Hall in a non-pejorative sense, to describe events leading to a wedding between two illustrious families being delayed by agreement. It wasn't until the mid-eighteenth century, according to Ferrari, Johnson, and McCown in their book, Procrastination and Task Avoidance: Theory, Research and Treatment, that procrastination began to take on its current, negative connotations. Schraw, Wadkins, and Olafson, in their paper, "Doing the things we do: A Grounded theory of academic procrastination" (Journal of Educational Psychology, Feb 2007, 12-25), have stated that, for the putting off of a task to be considered procrastination, it must meet these three criteria: it must be counterproductive, needless, and delaying. The "delaying" bit seems obvious; the other two not quite as much, but, after some thought, it becomes clear that these other two conditions must also hold true if a delay is clearly to be called procrastination. If you delay finishing a task because there is a fire in the building, you cannot be said to be procrastinating. If you delay finishing a task because you want to bake chocolate chip cookies first, it is procrastination. There is a sense that all the attempted definitions of procrastination ultimately point to a sort of psychological disorder.

In James Surowiecki's review in the New Yorker of the collection of essays entitled The Thief of Time: Philosophical Essays on Procrastination (ed. Andreou and White, Oxford: 2012),  he says:

You may have thought, the last time you blew off work on a presentation to watch “How I Met Your Mother,” that you were just slacking. But from another angle you were actually engaging in a practice that illuminates the fluidity of human identity and the complicated relationship human beings have to time. Indeed, one essay, by the economist George Ainslie, a central figure in the study of procrastination, argues that dragging our heels is “as fundamental as the shape of time and could well be called the basic impulse.”

 Wow. The Fluidity of Human Identity. The Basic Impulse. I like that. So when I put off working on this blog entry, I am only experiencing the flow of my own identity, and am succumbing to that basic human impulse–to delay as long as possible. It's not a psychological disorder–it's human nature!

There are attempts at a Freudian definition of procrastination as the use of the pleasure principle to avert the stress and anxiety caused by the deadline for a difficult task, and there is the physiological definition of it as a struggle between the prefrontal cortex, which is in charge of executive brain function--things like planning, impulse control, and attention--and the limbic system, which governs things like emotion, behavior, and motivation. This whole argument, though perhaps not rigidly scientifically explained, is discussed quite charmingly by a young British vlogger called Charlie McDonnell in the video below:

"Stop Procrastinating" from charlieissocoollike on YouTube

Charlie also gives helpful advice on how to avoid the temptation to procrastinate. This particular vlog entry, I might add, is about his inability to get to work on his video log, just as the subject of my blog is how I've been procrastinating on my blog. My, it's all so meta!

For me, however, procrastination has become a way of life. I have actually been accused of thriving on it, which makes me crazy, because I hate the feelings of stress and desperation induced by prolonged procrastination. On the other hand, there is something about the rapidly diminishing minutes that drives an adrenaline push to that final effort, and there have been times when the pressure of the time crunch has led me to make certain leaps in thinking that might not have occurred to me had I been working in a more leisurely manner. So maybe my accusers aren't entirely wrong about this. Procrastination: it's not all bad.

Am I a Nerdfighter?

Hank and John Green, aka Vlogbrothers

For those of you non-geeky, non-nerdy people out there (Who am I kidding? Why would you be reading my posts if you were one of those?), Nerdfighters, or, collectively, Nerdfighteria, are the dedicated followers of the Vlogbrothers, otherwise known as John and Hank Green, who started this whole enterprise on a dare in 2007, when one of them challenged the other to communicate solely by alternately posting video logs on YouTube to each other every day. The experiment, dubbed "Brotherhood 2.0," lasted a year, but by the end of that year they had gathered so many followers that they kept it up, though they now only post twice weekly, on Tuesdays and Fridays. Today they have over a million followers.

At this point, the Vlogbrothers are so well-known that John Green was picked to be one of the panelists at a Google+ "fireside hangout" with President Obama this past February. During that time, he asked the President about the future of the penny, how one could implement government policies on global warming, and what he should name his soon-to-be-born daughter. John Green is also a well-known New York Times bestseller list writer of young adult fiction. His brother Hank has several YouTube channels, including one that teaches science to laypersons; he is the founder of DFTBA Records, a recording label for YouTube musicians; he is the producer of a wildly popular YouTube channel "The Lizzie Bennet Diaries," a modern retelling of Pride and Prejudice in vlog form; he is the founder of VidCon; and he is the composer and singer of the unforgettable "Accio Deathly Hallows" song.

click here to hear Hank Green sing and play "Accio Deathly Hallows"

Okay, I said it was unforgettable; I didn't say I loved it. Still, made you smile, didn't it? Didn't it?

Well, so what is my point? I love the offbeat humor, the quick intelligence, and the nervous energy of these two young men, as well as their passion, their generosity, and their willingness to parlay their success into social action. In December of 2007 they started The Project for Awesome (P4A), in which YouTubers make videos and raise money promoting their favorite charities, and they have continued this tradition every subsequent December. The December 2012 P4A fundraiser was held in Carnegie Hall and raised $483,296 for five different charities.

The Vlogbrothers also sponsor interest-free microloans through Kiva, an online charitable lending organization. I think part of what inspired me to write this particular entry was that I just received an e-mail notice that the second payment of $2.08 toward the $25 loan I made to Faez in Iraq to help improve his auto parts store has been repaid on time. Even though I will never meet Faez or his wife and three children, it makes me happy to think I'm helping him out halfway across the world. Would I have done this without the encouragement of the Vlogbrothers? Perhaps, but probably not as soon. They make giving to charity and helping others seem natural, urgent, and overwhelmingly pleasurable. And, since recent research on happiness (Can you believe it's now a subject of research?) has found that one's happiness increases much more as a function of helping others than of buying things for oneself, I'm glad to think I spent my $25 on Faez and family than on acquiring, say, a new shirt.

Okay, back to the original question posed in my title: am I a Nerdfighter? In her March 13, 2013 blog for The New Yorker, Michelle Dean writes that the term nerdfighter "identifies the teen-ager in question as a follower of John Green." This statement is odd on three counts: one, John Green is not the only Vlogbrother; two, not all Nerdfighters are teenagers; and three, who the hell still hyphenates the word teenager? On the WikiHow of "How to Be a Nerdfighter," the authors claim that merely wanting to be a Nerdfighter makes you one. So why do I hesitate to call myself one?

I am a fan of  John and Hank Green and what they do, no question. I watch their weekly videos avidly, I get interested in their causes, I get caught up in their enthusiasms, and I laugh at their jokes. Because of them, I follow two British vlogs as well, charlieissocoollike and ninebrassmonkeys, both posted by young men in their twenties. Still, it feels odd to call myself a Nerdfighter, as I'm a middle-aged woman who's quite Internet- and social media- illiterate (I don't have a Facebook page or a Twitter account!) and who doesn't really share the same life experiences as young men born in the '80s, '90s, and '00s (bonus points if you can tell me how to pronounce that last one). I realize that there are quite a few female Nerdfighters; in fact, according to John Green, they outnumber the male ones, but it still feels odd to refer to myself as a Nerdfighter. So I don't. This is not intended as a slight to the sincere and charming Green brothers, but because I just don't like classing myself as part of a group. In other words, it's not you, it's me.

Part of the crowd?

In fact, I rather question the whole Nerdfighteria phenomenon. How can geeks, nerds, and social outcasts, people who by definition are on the outside of society, claim to belong to some monolithic group that all holds the same values? I thought the whole point of being offbeat and quirky is that one resisted definition, resisted being categorized. So, while I have no problem with the legions of fans who call themselves Nerdfighters, I do not consider myself one. I am GeekMom,  I contain multitudes.

Still....Don't Forget to be Awesome!