A Procrastinator’s Predicament

By March 24, 2018News

Every day at the top right corner of my computer screen I am asked if I want to update my system. This has been going on for months, yet every day I drop down the menu to ‘remind me tomorrow.’

Whenever there is an upgrade or update, I purposely wait until it’s been tested in the mass market and all the bugs worked out and confirm with those who know better than me than all my programs will work. Once those hurdles are cleared, the procrastination sets in.

Initially I always somehow truly believe that I will quickly get around to doing it, thinking that when I am reminded tomorrow I will either do it or set it to happen overnight. I know it is that easy. The next day, I realize it would be just as easy to set it to go tomorrow, and I click that option again. There is no telling how long this will go on – primarily because I forget about the whole thing as soon as I make the in-my-face notice go away and when I see the notice again the next day, I don’t ‘feel like it’, so again it goes undone.

I don’t know what my record is for procrastinating, but I generally miss a couple of update versions before I do it. Lately, though, each time I see the notice I actively wonder when the tomorrow will actually come. When will I be motivated to click that button, and what will be the instigation? I am in what some psychologists might call a ‘precontemplation’ phase, where I am preparing to do something by thinking about it.

I can’t explain the reasoning behind it. The issue isn’t whether or not I need to update, as my work proceeds without problem, it’s why something so easy and helpful has become a “thing.”  I feel no fear around updating, see no reason not to, and it takes no effort for me to do it, but yet I can’t seem to push myself to make it happen. Maybe it’s part of my aversion to being told what to do.  And the days go on.

Perhaps this blog will be the catalyst. If so, I’ll let you know!

Ruth Golden

Author Ruth Golden

More posts by Ruth Golden

Leave a Reply