Beating Procrastination: 14 Days In, Missed My First Deadline

I missed my deadline this morning — I usually like to have something scheduled to publish for 6 AM each day.

What I’ve been doing is writing during the day and scheduling the post for the following day so I don’t stress on any single day.

But, like promised, I missed a day. Caught a cold on Tuesday night and was in bed most of Wednesday, and today, Thursday… there’s no essay. Nothing pushed out at 6 AM. The only thing that happened this morning was a lot of sneezing and nose-blowing. 

It’s strange, I can feel the stereotypical methods of procrastination sinking in, even while sick. It’s like a sly troll, cuddling in bed with me, green slithery arms wrapping themselves up in my bed sheets. “You already missed your deadline, what does it matter now?” and “It’s 9 AM? You can wait until 10 or 11 AM. There’s no urgency anymore.”

“I mean, you already missed your deadline. Who’s waiting up on you?” 

Then, even more dangerous thoughts: “Well what would happen if you just missed a day? It’s not like it really matters to anyone if you keep up this schedule. You’re just doing this for yourself. It’s an arbitrary deadline.”

Yes, it’s an arbitrary deadline. Yes, it’s “just” a small goal I have for myself, to practice writing every day. And yes, it would be okay — the world would get on, I would get on — if I missed a day.

And if I were so sick I couldn’t move, I couldn’t think, I couldn’t do anything — sure, I could take a break.

But I just spent an hour scrolling on Facebook, another hour staring at a wall, and I answered a few work emails. Bed is doing me good, and I’m getting plenty of rest — but am I really “too sick” to write? 

Wait, would you look at that.

I just wrote something.

Hustle is a dial, not a way of being.

There are appropriate times to hustle in your business. Sometimes you’re hustling for a year or two on the side, creating your escape route and freedom business to jump ship from your corporate job.

Sometimes you stay up late and hustle the night before a course launches, or when you’re putting the final tweaks on a project before a deadline. Sometimes you hustle in between gigs, moving across the country, lining the highways in a bus, or getting from bookstore to bookstore to sell copies of your book.

Hustling, however, is not a way of being.

Many professions and careers (and managers, unfortunately) make hustling an expectation. Too many companies create expectations that people will work non-stop, jump at an email, and stay up late with very little advance notice; this is hustling as a result of poor planning, not as a result of the ebb and flow of project schedules.

With few exceptions, hustling as an expectation and a way of life—when you’re staying up too late and waking up early again the next day, time and time again, without an end date—is not sustainable. You’ll get sick, fall into depression or adrenal fatigue, contract bronchitis, or want to quit. The advent and appeal of lifestyle design comes not from people who are lazy but from people who are fed up. People who want to regain a bit of control over their time and want their efforts to matter.

Whether you’re an entrepreneur, an employee, a self-directed freelancer, or a consultant, constant hustling isn’t always indicative of a great environment. There is such a thing as too much hustling.

Hustle is a dial. Dial it up, ratchet it back. A mode that you can press to apply a bit more pressure, and ease up when it’s time to rest.

Hustle is a dial—play it up, pull it back.

Play it like an instrument. Step on it gently or firmly like a gas pedal. Know when to apply the hustle. Know when to apply the brakes. (Brakes are there for a reason, and it’s not just to slow down).

And as a counter-point: if you’re not hustling, I suppose it’s time to find something worth hustling for. Once in a while. It’s alright to love something and want to work on it a lot. Ratcheting up the dial can make downtime so much sweeter.

But if you’re hustling non-stop, it’s probably time to step back.

Your life is a set of made-up habits.

Your life is a set of made-up habits.

You learned how to behave by doing something, and then repeating it hundreds, if not hundreds of thousands of times until it became normal for you. When talking to one of my yoga instructors the other day, he said: “Want to change your personality? Just do something 1,000 times and it will feel like it’s you after a while.”

You learned how to tie your shoes one way, and then you did it thousands of times. You learned how to ride a bicycle, swim, dance, hold a pen, write in cursive, and use a computer — or if you haven’t yet, you might still want to.

You can change, make up things you want, do new things. It’s totally up to you. Once you realize how weird you are currently — from the way you organize your bathroom to the times and frequency of eating to dropping clothes on the floor randomly — you can decide, hey, I want to be weird in a NEW way.

You can set your radio to wake you up to chants, decide to go running at 4AM and then go back to bed, begin a writing habit even if you’ve never done it before, or decide to start Tae Kwon Do at age 48. It takes us a bit of new energy to start a new habit, but it’s not impossible.

The biggest thing holding us back from doing new things is a frail set of patterns that tell us we are what we already have done.

Screw that. It’s a big open empty canvas in front of you, and you might have to scratch a little to climb out of your past, but you really can shift and change.

You are your habits. And your habits can be changed.