Once upon a time, one of my sisters — let’s call her Puddin’ Head for the sake of privacy — had to write a paper for her English class. She found the assignment confusing, and so, ever the expert procrastinator, she procrastinated.
She procrastinated by doing her laundry.
She procrastinated by cleaning her room.
She procrastinated by sleeping while her roommate, who was in the same class, furiously labored late into the night to finish the paper.
Puddin’ Head managed to procrastinate right up to the day the paper was due. When she went to English class that day, everyone else submitted their paper. She said she just had to go print hers out. The teacher said to hand it in by noon.
Keep in mind, it was still not written by this point.
With 40 minutes until her (new) deadline, Puddin’ Head skipped her next class to bang out a paper in the school computer lab. She printed it out, handed it in, and went off to lunch.
A few weeks later, when the papers were returned, Puddin’ Head received an A, to the great annoyance of her roommate.
The following school year, our other sister — we’ll call this one Bubba for the sake of anonymity — enrolled in the same English class. Her class got the same assignment. Bubba prudently asked Puddin’ Head for help on the assignment and showed her the materials from the teacher — which included a copy of the best paper from the previous year (with the author’s name blacked out).
The author of the best paper from the previous year was none other than Puddin’ Head McGee, that successfully procrastinating scamp.
There is definitely a lesson in there somewhere, but I’ll let you figure it out for yourself.