Procrastinating 101: Beware the Dead(line) Zone!

This week, our Procrastinating 101 focus is on Cure Three--subtitled "Get Off the Rollercoaster"--in Diana DeLonzor's Never Be Late Again:  7 Cures for the Punctually Challenged.

As in previous chapters, DeLonzor here leads us through a self-assessment, this one designed to determine whether or not we are the kind of adrenaline junkies whose lateness is of the "Deadliner"variety.  If two or more of the following statements describe us, she maintains, we are "Deadliner" material.

• I work best under pressure.
• I like a fast-paced life-style.
• I often have difficulty getting motivated without an impending deadline.
• I am probably more easily bored than most people.
• I sometimes like to do things that are a little frightening.
• I enjoy living on the edge.

Personally, I think I am beginning to outgrow this status; but I have to admit that, as unpleasant as it feels sometimes, I still find myself "dashing around the house before work or furiously jamming papers into [my] briefcase before a meeting."  And I admit that "rushing makes [me] feel alive, focused, and purposeful."  Crazy, huh?

DeLonzor holds that we deadliners are likely to be one or both of these two types:

• Those who use adrenaline to relieve feelings of anxiety of boredom
• People who require a crisis to get motivated

Check, and check.

It is not exactly surprising that Deadliners of either type tend to be procrastinators, too.  In an earlier blog, we learned what Dr. Joseph Ferrari had to say about procrastination fueled by adrenaline addiction.  We also confronted the research that shows that, despite what we want to believe, last-minute, last-ditch efforts seldom result in superior achievements.

So why do we do it?  What is it about the breathless conduct of our habitual high-wire acts that keeps us in thrall?  DeLonzor answers these questions, in part, by sharing a couple of interesting findings.

First of all, deadlining is apparently at least partly--some estimate 60%--inherited.  And it seems that a "longer version of one gene on the eleventh chromosome" is common among those of us who "crave excitement."  This gene "influences the brain's response to dopamine, a chemical responsible for feelings of pleasure and euphoria, whose release may be triggered by exciting or risky experiences." 

Additionally, research conducted by psychologists G. Anderson and R.I. Brown in 1984 suggests that individuals vary in basic levels of arousal, and that some of us with "lower level[s] of base arousal" may require more stimulation to feel comfortable.  (Maybe that's why I experience a sense of having two gears--comatose and maniacal.) 

So if some of us are biologically inclined to push the envelope when it comes to completing work and getting places on time, what can we do about it--short of gene therapy?

DeLonzor recommends these three "basic steps:"

• Recognize how and when you create crises in your life.
• Learn to motivate yourself in the absence of a crisis.
• Find more constructive ways to obtain stimulation.

Following the book's pattern, DeLonzor prescribes a variety of exercises for each of these three steps.  The two that hold most appeal for me are:  looking for patterns in my production/use of crises as motivators; and practicing doing things early, to build internal motivation.

Something she doesn't deal with much, which is a serious issue for me, is the overall health consequences of living with self-generated stress.  I am hardly alone in our society in suffering from what has been termed "hurry sickness."  And many of us are coming to appreciate and long for the kind of calm that requires us to spend less time on the rollercoaster.

"Let's Be Careful Out There"

As we approach "the holidays" and their communal deadlines, "last minute" advice, warnings, deals, offers, opportunities, tips and strategies are blaring at us through every form of media with increasing frequency and volume.  

For example, this message, couched in dire language:  

It’s getting down to the wire for those of you (or rather, us) who haven’t finished buying holiday gifts. Sony Style is offering some last-minute deals on Vaio PCs with guaranteed delivery by December 24.

Or this, from The Financial Blogger:  

Last Minute Holiday Shopping Tips To Prevent Stress

Or this encouragement to retailers, from Retail Online Integration:

Despite the fact that Black Friday, Cyber Monday and Green Monday are behind us, the holiday shopping season isn't over yet for the millions of Americans known as "last-minute" shoppers. This group represents an opportunity for retailers to drive incremental lift this holiday season, according to an Acxiom report titled, Generate More Jingle This Holiday Season With Last-Minute Shoppers. 

It's nice to know, as I attempt once more to pull this whole annual production out of the fire, that I am a member of such a large and valued group, meriting our very own pricing structure and guidance, and counted on to save the bacon of commercial interests as the year draws to a close.  

Dr. Timothy Pychyl observed, in a 2008 blog post on "Holiday Shopping and Procrastination," that some shoppers purposely wait until the last minute as a strategy for reducing their gift-giving outlay, observing that prices tend to be reduced as the holiday draws nearer.  He does not lump these smart and daring shoppers in with those of us who just put off the ordeal of deciding what to give, feeling guilty about spending too much or too little, trudging to the stores and/or spending hours online in the virtual marketplace, eventually falling over in a financially depleted heap, eyes glazed over, sleigh bells echoing in our pounding heads.  About the first group, he says "not all delay is procrastination;" about the second, "all procrastination is delay."

As I head out this weekend to begin and complete my shopping, I will try to follow some tips, and take advantage of some deals.  And my purchases will be much appreciated, I'm sure, by retailers focused on their bottom lines.  I will fortify myself with the Mexican Spice Latte that has recently become my favorite self-bribe.  I will probably not make it past Chapter One of Elaine St. James' 269-page Simplify Your Christmas:  100 Ways to Reduce the Stress and Recapture the Joy. . .   I picked up this enticing little volume at a used bookstore with a feeling of hope, after a conversation with my daughter.  As a young mother and part-time high school teacher, she is struggling to resist the pull of the Christmas express, that runaway train of  lunacy that hijacks so many of our holidays.  I offered to let her read the book first.  She returned it within a day, having found its simplification approach anything but simple.  Did I mention it has 269 pages?

At this point, I have no option but to wade into the fray, and try to minimize the damage to my psyche and my checking account.  I accept the conditions I have created for the penance they represent.  Perhaps if I pay close attention to my suffering, I could actually learn not to let this happen again.  But after all these years, how likely is that?  

I can also use my time in last-minute shopping hell to practice compassion for myself and my wretched fellow travelers, as we circle the mall in search of deliverance--and a parking space within the same state.  As Hill Street Blues' Sgt. Phil Esterhaus used to admonish his officers at the close of each roll call, "Let's be careful out there."  Only us nuts are out now.

Reaching My Speed Limit

Rushing through traffic yesterday in the clogged lanes brought to us by stimulus-money-inspired road construction gone amok, I was led to contemplate the unpleasant experience of hurrying.  Something I'm doing too much of lately.  Hurrying, that is, not contemplating.  (And "late-ly" is how, and why I'm doing it!)


My middle child, who--fortunately, mostly--does not share my genes, is constantly haranguing me about walking too fast.  His reflex response to all requests from me is some variant of "Wait up" or "Calm down"--even when I think I'm relatively calm.  When he was a small child, The Hurried Child:  Growing Up Too Fast Too Soon, by David Elkind Ph.D. was a decade or so old. Its ideas had percolated into our cultural consciousness to the extent that I referred to them without ever having read the book. And I used to say that this little boy of mine was "The Unhurry-able Child."  I am still trying to learn what he can teach me.


By now, we have graduated to something called the Slow Movement.  (Neither constipation, nor the adagio part of a symphony.)  Articles and websites and bookshelves abound with calls to convert to "Slow Food" and "Slow Travel;" to educate our children in "Slow Schools" and move to "Slow Cities." It has been twelve years since Richard Carlson and Joseph Bailey gave us Slowing Down to the Speed of Life: How To Create A More Peaceful, Simpler Life From the Inside Out. And longer still since Dr. Gershon Lesser coined the term "hurry-up disease," which he warned puts us at risk for hypertension and early coronaries--products of literally speeding to get through (with) life.

So why are we still rushing around?  And how do we stop?

At Slow Movement, a website dedicated to promoting the voluntary simplicity and downshifting at the heart of this cultural sea change, they make the argument that slow is all about connection, to place, to life, and to each other.  And that fear of death and dying are at the root of what physicians have come to call time urgency impatience a hallmark of the dreaded, and unhealthy Type A personality.  In our acronym-crazy argot, this malady has morphed into "TUI," or its variant "TUP"--Time Urgency Perfectionism, said to afflict women disproportionately.  Blogger Wendy, at Chronicles of Chaos, writes humorously of finding a diagnosis for a condition that had convinced her that "something was wrong with me."


Wendy dismisses the simplistic advice for improving the situation found in the Boston Globe article that put her onto the whole concept--namely 1) taking a one-minute break for a funny email, or dancing (too little to make a difference); 2) reminding yourself to slow down (not likely to help someone addicted to hurrying); and 3) retreating to a no-tech zone (but that's where she finds funny emails and escape from the pressures of her life).  Standard lists of suggestions, like this from  
MySelfDevelopment, include:

1. Set priorities. Make a conscious decision about what you consider important, and let your schedule (and your attitude) reflect your intentions. For example, if relationships and health are high on your list, turn off the TV to free up time for taking walks with friends.

2. Do one thing at a time. When you multi task, it becomes impossible to concentrate, feel deeply, or think clearly. “Doing two or more things at the same time splits our consciousness in two or more ways,” observes meditation teacher Eknath Easwaran.

3. Wake up right. “Set your alarm clock early, but don’t get up when it rings,” suggests Paul Pearsall, Ph.D., author of The Last Self-Help Book You’ll Ever Need: Repress Your Anger, Think Negatively, Be a Good Blamer, & Throttle Your Inner Child. “Lie there a few minutes and practice the savoring response: Think about who and what is worth getting up for and the privilege of being awake in such a rushed yet wonderful world.”

4. Take off your watch. “People hurry up when they see a clock, which is why stores don’t have clocks–they want us to linger,” says Honore, who experiences less anxiety since he unstrapped his own watch. Because there are clocks everywhere–in cars and on cellphones and computers–he’s still punctual, but no longer feels like a slave to time. Test this yourself by going “watch-free” on evenings and weekends.

5. Listen to relaxing music. “Your body synchronizes to the rhythms around you,” says psychologist Sharon Heller, Ph.D., author of Too Loud, Too Bright, Too Fast, Too Tight. Look for music that’s paced to a relaxed heartbeat, about 60 beats per minute.

6. Resist road rage, “See every traffic jam as a meditation assignment,” Pearsall advises. There are few better opportunities to practice positive thinking and forgiveness or perform your deep-breathing exercises.

7. Find your center. Techniques such as meditation and yoga allow you to access patience. “Practices that bring you into stillness and quiet turn off the stress response,” says Peg Bairn, N.P., director of training at the Mind-Body Medical Institute, and an associate in medicine at Harvard Medical School. “They help you recharge your batteries and come back into alignment with who you really are.”

For myself, I will think seriously about these strategies and experiment with their use.  In the meantime, two behavioral changes beckon.  First of all, I will set and adhere to firm deadlines by which time I must leave the house for scheduled meetings, work hours, appointments, and other events.  I most often find myself hurrying when I haven't left enough time to get where I need to be.  Secondly, I will keep, as Gretchen Rubin advocates in her Happiness Project blog, gas in my car--and ask those who share it to help out with this.  Jumping into a vehicle which has been left, by me or by others, on fumes in the driveway has contributed much anxiety to my days in recent months.  This is partly a result of post-Katrina gas prices, which have made filling up a thing of the past.  But it also comes from failing to plan ahead, and a kind of magical thinking that seeks to ignore the fact that I'm going to eventually--and before the week is out, probably--have to spend a certain amount to fuel my necessary travels anyway.  Rubin calls this "underbuying."


And now, I'm going to move slowly through this day, sandwiched between two fully scheduled ones.  Tomorrow morning, I need to be miles from here at 7:30, to meet up with my traveling companions for a full-day out-of-state consulting visit.  I need to leave the house no later than 7, in a car with sufficient gas in its tank.  Tomorrow's blog post must be written today--but not in a rush.  I will try to store up some tranquility, and to listen to my in-home spirit guide, who would have me walk slower, wait up, and calm down.  It probably wouldn't hurt, too, to wear my "Serenity" bracelet, and to squeeze in a little dancing.