Quantum Procrastination - Schrodinger's To-Do List
"Because the dishes are both done and not done until you open the dishwasher." - this guy, just now.
In a shocking, overpaid for 1263 page study that will surprise nobody with a half-eaten bag of chips beside their laptop and 17 open tabs all titled "How to Start," physicists have once again confirmed what we've known all along:
Procrastinators live in a quantum state.
We are the professionally panicked and perpetually avoidant. Also, modern day Schrodingers. To-do lists for us are suggestions, hung in a form of suspended animation. Tasks are both complete or incomplete until somebody or something notices.
Usually an employer, a friend, or a spouse. Even a conscience, if you're into that kind of thing.
For those not geeked up enough to know what Schrodinger's original thought experiment involved, here are the basics:
It involves a hypothetical cat in a box that is simultaneously alive AND dead until the box is opened.
If that sounds grim, it's probably only because you haven't opened your inbox since last weekend. Email is also both answered and unanswered until someone yells your name in all caps.
Side note: cats don't care whether we check the box or not. They just want to see if it fits.
The Physics of Putting Things Off
Let's break down the actual legitimate scientific theory behind Quantum Procrastination:
There isn't one, but there should be. Give me til tomorrow to think about it.
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Fine! I'll try to explain now.
In quantum physics, particles can exist in multiple states at the same time until measured.
In Quantum Procrastination, your brain simultaneously exists between "plenty of time" and "you're toast" depending on whether or not the couch is positioned in a way that you can read the calendar and notice it's the 17th.
This principle is called the Procrastinator's Paradox. It exists at the same level as the Time Warp Principle which states:
Three weeks before a deadline shall seem infinite until suddenly it's tomorrow and participant A is running around the apartment looking for clean pants.
Sometimes I picture a parallel universe where my alternate self is always wildly productive. He keeps a journal to maintain a deadline. He goes for mind clearing walks at sunrise. He has already written out the cheques for next months utility bills.
I hate that guy. He seems like the kind of guy who sorts his neckties by colour and alphabetizes soup. Except alphabet soup, because he still enjoys a little irony.
Meanwhile, in this timeline, my wife pays all the bills because I'll forget to until I take a really cold shower in the extremely dark dark. There's a squeaky door that's needed attention for three months that I now call my "mood indicator."
Also dark.
The Schrodinger's To-Do List
Ah, yes. The list. Modern guilt in scroll format. My to-do list is written in pen, pencil, burnt coffee and occasionally blood from the pencil sharpening accident that reoccurs every two weeks or so.
Assigned tasks don't just sit quietly on it. They evolve and multiply. If left unchecked for too long "call dentist" will breed with "organize closet" and form a super-task. Like "organize ties by color even though getting yourself to wear a tie is like pulling teeth."
And no matter how many items I cross off the infernal list, new ones appear. Quickly. Like the new freckles on my face and arms every time I dare to go out in the sun for longer than four seconds.
That's because we don't finish the list - we survive it.
Sure, some of the tasks are beyond the realm of completing now. For instance, I've got one item that says "RSVP to Dan's barbecue." Dan moved out of province 22 years ago. It's not a to-do anymore, it's a historical footnote.
Productivity, by the way, can be broken down to this simple formula:
Productivity = (Dark Roast less State of Wakefulness) divided by Streaming Temptation.
In short, that means the higher the streaming temptation, the lower the chance I'll do anything other than watch a superhero or dinosaur movie for the 13th time while pretending it's helping me get "in the right headspace."
Experiments in Avoidance
Being a lifelong practitioner of task evasion, I've run several groundbreaking experiments that undoubtedly took more time and resources than just getting to the tasks on the list in the first place. The results are in:
Experiment #1: Task Observation Delay Method
Experiment #2: Deadline Event Horizon
Experiment #3: Motivation Particle Accelerator
And to top it all off, there's a little thing I like to call the "Just Real Quick Vortex of Doom." It's the dangerous belief that you're going to check your emails for just a couple of minutes before starting.
Six hours later, you're messaging a complete stranger back and forth about some weird skunk cabbage gardening conspiracy, and the guy who started the whole debate has left to complete his task list. Thanks, Dave!
Parallel Universes of Productivity
Quantum Theory tells us that multiple realities can exist simultaneously, so I like to let my imagination run with the following:
- Universe A: I get up early, drink unsweetened lemon water with my blueberry waffles, and crush everything on my to-do list by 11am.
- Universe B: I eat eat cereal straight out of the box with powdered milk and hope that this time I won't choke on the loose elements. And not choking is my only task. Nailed it!!
- Universe C: I create a colour-coded spreadsheet to organize my tasks under the headings "To Do", "Not To Do," "That is the Question," and "Et tu, Tuesday?"
I choose to find comfort in the fact that somewhere there's some version of me in some timeline on some plain of existence that somehow has everything somewhat together. It's probably just not this one who is finishing this blog post as a means of procrastinating emptying the dishwasher and taking a shower.
The Upside of Quantum Procrastination
Let's be generous to ourselves for a moment, okay?
Procrastination might be less a form of laziness and more an expression of hope. Each task - as long as it remains unobserved - is a Schrodinger's box filled with potential. It could go horribly. Then again, it could be magnificent. And until you open it, all outcomes are possible. And if ALL outcomes are POSSIBLE, you can choose to believe the best one.
It's the same principle we use to hold onto unread emails, unopened bills, and that play we wrote about intergalactic Elvis lookalikes invading Memphis in search of a blue ribbon in 1995. Until someone looks, failure hasn't happened yet.
That's our greatest achievement. AND our greatest downfall. Just don't look into it too deeply.
Does it sound like avoidance? Absolutely. But I think it's also the creative mindset that fuels imagination. Some of the weirdest, funniest, most inspired ideas might just spring from procrastination. Not just despite it, but actually because of it.
Here's proof: As I said earlier, I was supposed to be emptying the dishwasher when I thought of this entire post.
Until You Look, the Work is Perfect
In quantum physics, it's the act of observation that changes the outcome.
In Quantum Procrastination, the act of observation changes your heart rate.
So the next time someone accuses you of putting things off, quietly remind them that you're simply operating on a subatomic level. The to-do list is a waveform and your brain is in superposition. Yes, I got those terms from reading one article on quantum physics. And the de-nerdified definition is this:
Your socks are still on the floor, but that's none of their business.
After all, we're all Schrodinger's creatures, wandering through a world chock full of maybe-laters and get-to-it-tomorrows.
Want to leave a comment? Go ahead. Until I recheck this post, your comment both exists and doesn't.
And as for that task I had that led to me writing this post in the first place??
Let's just say that box still has potential.
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