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 < back to articles Cutting
the E-mail Cord: One Writer's Recognition of the Relationship between
Procrastination and Perfectionism
I recently discovered that I am a terrible procrastinator. Let me rephrase that: I am a wonderful procrastinator. Procrastination was one skill I never knew I possessed. When others would talk about their ability to procrastinate, I would nod politely, but silently think, "Finally, an affliction I do not suffer from." Alas, I not only have the skill to procrastinate I am very good at it. This became glaringly apparent to me the other day when I caught myself gladly getting up from the computer to clean up one of my cat's hairballs rather than start the book chapter revisions that are due back at the editors next week. I spent a considerable amount of time mulling over how best to clean up the liquidy mass as the offending hairball was resting on my new hardwood floor. I worried how long the mess had been there and whether or not the acid from my cat's stomach was strong enough to etch into the wood. This task of worrying and cleaning took nearly a full half-an-hour. I sat down at the computer ready to write only to see that 54 messages had magically made their way into my work e-mail inbox. No time to write now. I needed to address the e-mail situation immediately. After all, something really important must have happened if 54 e-mails had arrived so quickly in my inbox. So the writing gets put off yet again, and instead of writing a chapter's worth of prose, I spend the next few hours writing a novel's worth of e-mail responses. What's the big deal? Lots of individuals are procrastinators, right? Or at least this is how I have been consoling myself. The big deal is that for all of my adult life I have been in denial that I procrastinate when it comes to my writing. After all, not only do I make my living in a field that admonishes me to publish or perish, but I have a graduate degree in of all things writing. Therefore, how could I, of all people, procrastinate when it comes to writing? When I began researching procrastination, I was surprised to learn that perfectionism is tied to procrastination. According to the research, perfectionism is a form of rigidity or inflexibility marked by an intense desire to control things yourself because you believe others cannot do it right, an insistent attitude that unless you can do something well you will not even start it, and a profound need for closure, evident by agitation or discomfort should things be left unfinished (Quek, 2002). It is these three characteristics that cause some perfectionists to procrastinate. Now "perfectionist'' as opposed to "procrastinator " is a label I am more familiar with as I hear it often. The joke amongst my friends is that I am so type A that I'm type A+. I am always working on something—always working and reworking it. That's the problem, though, I am always working on something, but am I always writing? Writing e-mails, yes. The other day (or should I say night) I saw that an e-mail was delivered to my inbox at 3:45 a.m. from my department head's administrative assistant. "What on earth was she doing up at 3:45 a.m.?" I wondered. I looked at the time on my own clock. It was 3:47 a.m. I'd like to say that I was up so late writing. And yes, I was writing, but what I was writing were e-mail responses. It turns out that I use e-mail as a way to procrastinate from even sleeping at night. I have found that I do not go to bed until I have responded to and dealt with every e-mail that I received during the day. Recognizing that this type or procrastination is related to my perfectionism has enabled me to begin to deal with the challenge of cutting the cord. I justify needing to read and respond to my e-mails as being work related. In that way, dealing with them is a necessity. At least to my perfectionist self it is a necessity as answering e-mails provides me a great deal of quick, near instant closure. But let's face it -- in addition to my perfectionism I am addicted to e-mail, and I use it as a way to procrastinate and keep me from my academic writing. While I complain bitterly about the staff member who sends me an e-mail asking a question even though our offices are just feet apart, I get a great pay off from dealing with a full inbox of e-mails. I feel like I am doing my job. I am doing something important. My inbox is always at least 75 percent full and sometimes dangerously close to quota. I have proof that I am working. And after all isn't it easier to just reply back to my staff member's e-mail rather than walk the twenty-five feet to her office? I suspect I am like several of you who in addition to your teaching have an additional job responsibility that eats into your precious writing time. You see in addition to my faculty responsibilities, I am also the director of a large University Center. My staff, for the most part, are not academics, so I feel guilty telling them that I need uninterrupted periods of time to write. I feel horrible trying to explain that part of my day, every day involves research and writing. Perhaps, I am reading their looks too closely, but I swear a staff member's raised eyebrow means that she thinks my job is a joke and how privileged it must be to sit in an office and "write" all afternoon while she is in the office doing "real" work. Ah, guilt...that brings me to my next insight regarding myself as a procrastinator. I procrastinate doing the writing because I fear the judgment that comes from others who see what I do as privileged, luxurious, hardly worthy of being called work. Case in point, as I write this I am sitting on a dock overlooking a lake complete with swans, herons, geese, turtles, and rather large cat fish. Many would consider this a writer's paradise. I am extremely fortunate as it is my backyard. I am working from my home office this afternoon, and I truly believe it is the guilt of being able to work from home and in such beautiful surroundings that keeps me tethered to my e-mail and to the office responsibilities that mar my writing time. It is taking all of my energy not to rush upstairs to the office and check e-mail. The judgment that I fear, of course, comes from individuals who have little knowledge of the academic world and just how time consuming and intense our work can be. As a graduate student, when I told people that I hoped to get a job as a professor after completing my doctorate, most of them mentioned something about an ivory tower and how it would be nice, easy work if I could get it. Hmmm...nice and easy. After entering the professoriate, two words I would never associate with the job are "nice and easy." Now being the perfectionist, type A+ personality that I am I have devised a plan to address both my e-mail addiction and my recent self-discovery that I am indeed a procrastinator. First, I am making my writing time known publicly. Like my sessions at the gym, I pencil in time to write in my day planner. (Oh, how I wish I used exercise and not e-mail as a way to procrastinate). For my staff, I have set up a web-based calendar accessible by password that reminds them of when I am writing with a gentle note requesting that they please save e-mails and phone calls for a time when I am not writing. Why do I ask my staff not even to send e-mails to me during my writing time? For me, e-mail is like a ringing phone, I have to answer it. Even if I am working offline, I find that at some point during my writing session I will need to go online and visit my e-mail inbox to read what a co-author or editor has written regarding a piece. Even though I promise I will only look for the e-mail I need in that moment, just seeing the unread e-mails causes guilt to rise in my chest like the phoenix out of the ashes. Before I know it I will have read all of the e-mails, answered most of them, and spent two hours doing so. Inevitably (Murphy's Law at work) during my writing time I get more than double the normal amount of e-mails that need some sort of action to be taken. Worse though is when I do not read the e-mails as they come in. I find on those nights that I have hours worth of e-mails waiting for me. To combat the problem I now ask staff simply to hold off on sending me e-mails during my designated writing time. I consider it the same as asking them not to call me when I am in a meeting. Whatever it is can wait -- I have found that it can always wait. This new system has now been in place for one month, and I am pleased to report that two articles have gone out, and I just received the news that a peer-reviewed article of mine has been accepted for publication. Also in the short term I will admit that my guilt is lessening. Am I still working on my perfectionist issues? Yes, on a daily basis. As for my e-mail addiction -- what addiction? References |
