I think I had this idea that once I graduated from college, I would become an adult. Once I moved my tassel to the other side of my hat, a panoply of my most immature shortcomings would miraculously disappear. It didn’t happen that way. So then I thought, “Well that’s because they haven’t mailed me my diploma yet.”

So I waited. Then late last summer I received a blue leather folder thing with my school’s name on the front. On the inside my name was printed and it all looked pretty legit. So I thought, “All right. Now I’m an adult.” It was around that time that I began to take the great job hunt seriously. Or, you know, my version of seriously. After getting excited about several dozen jobs that were OMGSOMYDREAMJOB and learning that in the current climate, nobody even bothers to send you a “Thanks but no thanks” email (when I was seriously looking for a job, the couple times I got that email, I was actually excited about it. I was all, “Thanks, friend, for at least having the decency to crush my hopes of future employment instead of allowing me to sit around thinking, ‘Maybe they’ll get back to me next month…’ Assholes.”)

At some point I realized that this whole “adult” thing wasn’t working out for me. Not simply because of the serious absence of tie-dye and glitter, but also because of my lengthy list of failures as a human being that reveal me for the child I truly am. That list did not seem to miraculously disappear. I was already pretty upset about how much money I paid for my degree. This made me absolutely livid. I mean, for all that money, I should at least be a proper adult by now, right!?!?

But seriously. On my long list of vices that probably won’t ever go away: procrastination. With each semester of college, I had to find new and creative ways to trick myself into completing tasks as my arsenal of procrastination tools multiplied. When writing a paper I had to first account for the amount of hours that paper would take to write if I actually dedicated consecutive hours to the task. I would then multiply that by P, the procrastination rate for the given semester. In the beginning it was something like 1.25. For every hour I spent writing, I might spend 15 on Facebook. By senior year it turned into something like 2.5. The fact that you are reading this blog now is a clear indicator that you have a similar problem. You are probably reading this in lieu of writing a paper or some insanely boring work task.

“Starting a paper” means an hour or two at the computer on Facebook or Sporcle (Sporcle was the worst. Since I was dedicating myself to learning all 195 countries and their respective capitals, I could argue that I was engaging in an educational activity and therefore being productive). Eventually I open Word and save the document. This merits a reward of an additional hour of adorable animals doing silly things on YouTube. This process would repeat (write a page…a paragraph…a sentence…whatever, do nothing, repeat) until eventually I have a paper. And by “eventually” I mean that I am brushing my teeth while the paper prints and I sprint to class hopefully on time. But probably a little late.

This phenomenon did not seem to miraculously vanish after MObama gave us her lovely speech. My struggles with focus probably have something to do with the embarrassing job application typos. They definitely have something to do with the existence of this blog.

I have the day off today. I should be utilizing this time to (a) Put together this insanely boring spreadsheet about my debt. Nicole’s Economic Outlook Report. (b) file my taxes. © get to work on my next grad school application (d) one of nine hundred other activities that I am not interested in because of their seriously adult content (will that me Google hits? “adult content” Probably not. Boobs. How about now?)

But that’s not really true. The real reason I don’t want to do these things is because I have to. Even fun activities become things to be avoided the second they also become “obligations.” Which is why this blog was actually an awful idea, because, as you can see, I have not been particularly diligent about its upkeep.

I wrote an entire post about backpacking with my little brother. Among the many things I omitted for the sake of space and a vague sense of cohesion were the slew of Sweeney’s Laws we created. In the interest of continuing to avoid the productive items on the earlier list setting up where I’m going with this because I want you to think I’m actually trying to go somewhere with this here are the items I recall:

Sweeney’s Law of Quality
As cost decreases, quality increases
(I’m fairly certain this was actually intended to be Sweeney’s Law of Alcohol Quality, but I’m not positive. My memory might be a tad rusty here…)

Sweeney’s Law #2
As time in bullshit Slovenia increases, liters of Borzoi vodka consumed also increases.

(confession: We got drunk and contributed to the graffiti on a train station wall in Slovenia and we took a picture. By “recall” I mean, these are things that were decipherable in that picture.)

My second post on this blog essentially argued an addition to this list, but it is not fool proof, so I’m not quite sure how to phrase it just yet.

Sweeney’s Fun Ratio
“amount of fun” : “fear of death” often = 1:1.

But I’ll consult with my brother for a refined version.

The point:

Sweeney’s Law of Time Management
As obligation to complete a task increases, desire to complete a task decreases.

Sweeney’s Law of Time Management, addendum A
This holds true until the finite reality of a deadline appears on the horizon, at which point said task will be promptly completed.

Sweeney’s Law of Time Management, addendum B
The time taken to actually complete the task and its nearness to the aforementioned deadline, in conjunction with the level of success obtained/quality of completion, shall be combined to determine an individual’s bragging rights, wherein “time committed” will have an inverse relationship with bragging rights (less time = more bragging) and proximity to deadline and success/quality will have a direct relationship to bragging rights.

My lack of a deadline for certain tasks makes it insanely difficult to commit myself to them, as I have no barometer for my bragging rights. However, I did open Excel for Stupid Bullshit Tasks Item A, before starting this blog post. 1100 words later, I think I have cashed in the full extent of the Procrastination Reward Credit allotted for that task.

And so have you. Get back to work, you unproductive asshole.