As I write this, I have thirty-three essays needing grading. They’re just sitting there, waiting for me to open, read, and assess them. Like Schrödinger’s cat, these essays may well be both brilliant and underwhelming, but I won’t know until I open them and discover the truth.
If you’ve never graded an essay—really graded one—thirty-three probably doesn’t sound like a lot, but that’s only true if all you need to do is slap a letter grade on them. These essays need insightful, meaningful feedback, which takes a decent amount of thought and time.
You might wonder why I’m writing this instead of grading those essays, and that’s my point. I’m a procrastinator. For as long as I can remember, I’ve put things off. They don’t have to be unpleasant things, either. They’re just things I’d prefer to do later.
For example, I don’t dislike grading writing. If I did, I’d be in a sorry state most of the time. This is a different variety of procrastination than, say, putting off a colonoscopy for another month. Deferring a colonoscopy is one of those things, by the way, that seems like a good idea but isn’t.
When I joined the military, I thought it would help me stop procrastinating. All it did was make me better at knowing exactly when I had to do something to get it done on time. So I guess I’m actually a functioning procrastinator.
Here’s what I do: I grade just one essay, and while I’m doing it, I try to think only about that task. Then I grade just one more.
This works for anything that can be divided into smaller tasks: grading essays, completing pages of writing, raking the backyard, painting a house.
This isn’t the only way to get past procrastination, but it’s my way, and it works for me most of the time.
Now, back to grading.
