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I Went Through The Motions And Wasted Away My Summer Like An Idiot

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It’s the last week of the semester and you are ferociously typing your ass off to make a deadline on a 37 page packet that was assigned by your professor months ago. You were going to start on it at the beginning of the summer, but your buddy decided you should go out that one Wednesday night. Then there was that time with the NCAA Football 14 tournament. How about the night it was half price apps at the bar? You can’t pass on $3 mozzarella sticks so you delayed it again. Next thing you knew it was finals week. This is what procrastination looks like in college.

Any scenario where you put something off for that long is disappointing. I always find myself doing the same self-loathing routine. I promise that this is the last time, but it always inevitably happens again. Come to think of it, it’s actually the exact same as my drinking routine. My declaration of no more Thirsty Thursday has been broken every Thursday for about three years now and I don’t see that slowing down anytime soon. It’s hard to face one’s self in the mirror with that much of a deficiency in willpower.

But the worst type of procrastination? The kind that makes me feel like real hot garbage? That would be the summer strain of this sickness. The laziness that attacks the system towards the end of every April and won’t leave its host until mid-August. Summer procrastination is the worst because I really feel like I don’t need to do anything. 

Don’t blame me, but rather the system. We get four months of little to no responsibility. No college kid with any sense of fun is going to handle that type of freedom the correct way. The ones that do are the worst human beings alive. The only reason you’re out of bed this early is so that you can post #productive on the gram. Cut the charade, Heather. No one is buying it. 

Personally, my bed to beach ratio is leaning heavily towards bed this summer. It’s like I’m in a movie where the two little guys pop up on your shoulder. I try to hear the angel but the devil just makes more sense. Every morning, I wake up with intentions of going out and doing something but then that little voice calls out.

“It can wait until tomorrow.”

Damn, he got me again. Before you know it, tomorrow is August 1st and you’ve wasted another summer.

The times I do exit my bed and explore the world, it’s to drink. Basically, every decision I’ve made this summer has ended in regret. Whether I’m on my 10th game of FIFA in a day or dry-heaving over my porcelain throne, bad decisions abound.

Either way, summer is all about dodging responsibility at every turn. I moved some of my stuff from a former residence to a current one in April, and the boxes are still sitting in my car. I never actually brought them into my house because I don’t “have” to yet. That’s pathetic. Along the same lines, I graduate in December. You think I have some cushy internship lined up? You know, something to show that I am actually good at working or whatever? Nahhh, I’ll be good. Something will come up right?

All the way through college, I have always played sports. Coaches always preach the same sentiment, “You can’t just turn it on at game time.” But that’s kind of my plan for life. After years of being a lazy piece of trash, I expect to just turn it on after graduation and have a successful career. I will just shed this procrastination and become the beautiful butterfly that I am.

Either that or I just keep cramming like it’s finals week and hope it works out. Do real adults ever shed their procrastination? Do they still contain the virus? Is it active or dormant? So many questions, but I don’t really feel like putting in the work to ask anyone. Guess I’ll just find out on my own. Alright, I’m gonna get out of bed now errr maybe not.

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Dent is a washed up former athlete who swears he's totally over his ex-girlfriend. One of these days he'll get around to applying to a real job, but until then he'll keep pumping out lackluster articles while downing copious amounts of Natty Light.

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