This post is less about the art of meeting deadlines (fear is the answer) and more about the existential dread that follows once you’ve done it. I’m pretty good at keeping deadlines, even if I fall into a mad sprint over the last few days (or… hours) but I’m not really that good at bouncing back afterwards, even more so if I don’t have anything else that requires my attention with some urgency. Sometimes this is fine – I was more or less useless for two weeks after finishing my psychology thesis and that was okay because I was also exhausted from the experience. Other times it’s less great, because you end up in a cycle of only doing things that are due instead of working ahead of schedule. It’s the worst, no good thing.
I’m a little bit in that situation right now. During winter I had way too many things due, coupled with a surprise move (of which I’ve spoken at length) but in the last couple of weeks I’ve been knocking things off and now I’m down to a couple of things on my to do list, of which only one or two actually requires me to do them soon. This would be the perfect time to script the next chapter of my sex comic, or maybe even work on something creator owned so I have more of a portfolio to show off, but instead I’m just sitting here somewhat handicapped. It’s not great. Intellectually I know there are things I should be doing, but emotionally I’d rather listen to podcasts and eat chips.
Even this blog post is a way to procrastinate on doing something useful. Good God, I am the worst, aren’t I? Don’t be like me. Seriously. Stop reading this right now and do something with your life.