Hi, my name is Chris, and I am a precrastinator.
Not a procrastinator, who is a person who puts off tasks until the last minute. Rather, I am that person’s opposite, somebody gets things done quickly, sometimes at the expense of quality. Hence, “pre” instead of “pro.”
The term “precrastinator” came into vogue five years ago, around the time that researchers at Pennsylvania State University were studying “walking and reaching,” according to a Scientific American article by Mark Fischetti.
As is often the case in research, the primary goal led to secondary discoveries. In this case, professor David Rosenbaum, experimenting with people carrying ice buckets from one end of an alley to another, noted that many people would pick up a bucket close to them, instead of one closer to the end of the alley, even though it meant carrying that bucket farther to complete the task.
The phenomenon of working harder to accomplish a goal just to say it was finished led Rosenbaum to theorize that some people could be precrastinators, rushing to remove tasks from their working memory.
Anybody who teaches for a living, as I do, will attest to the reality of precrastination. While students who wait until the last minute to complete a task are more common — and get all the press, so to speak — teachers also are aware of the yin to their yang, those students who are finished with an assignment before directions have even been given.
As an English teacher, I see this most often with essay tests. No matter how strongly I stress thoughtful, detailed responses and good time management, somebody is almost always done in five minutes, usually bragging about how “easy” the prompt was.
While that speed and braggadocio can be attributed to a lack of interest in the task, some instances, I belatedly realize, could be precrastination. Students want to be done so badly that they are willing to sacrifice quality.
I get it.
As an incorrigible maker of to-do lists — on paper and in various apps — nothing gives me more satisfaction than crossing off an activity or moving it to the “done” column. And when I finish a job that I forgot to put on my list, I’m not above adding it just so I can immediately put a line through it, even though I recognize this as ridiculous.
The last item on many of my lists is “make tomorrow’s list,” and I’ve marred otherwise lovely, loafing days by tallying minor tasks that I should do so that, on some theoretical tomorrow, I will have nothing to accomplish.
Of course, that tomorrow never comes, because it dawns with a list of its own.
The “precrastinator” designation gives me a label to hang on this behavior. It also explains my zeal to complete tasks that are vapid and inconsequential, both at home and at work, the real-life equivalents of TPS reports from the movie “Office Space.”
(Note to self: I need to add “rewatching Office Space” to my to-do list.)
In my case, I am offloading my working memory twice — once to the list, and then again when I remove it from the list. It’s double satisfaction.
Just as Rosenbaum theorized, it’s also extra work. I have time invested in making lists, along with time to accomplish many inconsequential tasks that could be done later — or never. Often, I need to go back to more important tasks and redo them because I rushed through them the first time.
To say nothing of the mental angst involved whenever I choose to ignore items on my list or when I wake up in the middle of the night thinking about what I still have to do.
Precrastination. It’s not just for breakfast anymore.
Step one in solving any problem is admitting you have one. Next is to decide how to deal with it.
I could start by picking one day a week when I will not make any lists.
That’s a good goal. I’m going to add it to my to-do list.
Damn.
Originally published on Thursday, June 20, 2019, in The Alliance Review.
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