Calvin: “You can’t just turn on creativity like a faucet. You have to be in the right mood.”
Hobbes: “What mood is that?”
Calvin: “Last minute panic.”

— Bill Watterson

I routinely procrastinate writing this blog. In fact, I routinely procrastinate writing a lot of things. The irony is that I actually enjoy writing; in fact, I enjoy writing so much that at one point I was considering attending graduate school for writing. Therefore, writing in and of itself is not a chore for me; if it were, I would not have spent over a decade writing college recommendations or work in a job that requires a significant amount of writing, which admissions does. I am one of the lucky ones. I may procrastinate writing, but I do not detest it.

Many of you are just like me. You know you need to do something, but in the lexicon of my favorite time management tool, the Eisenhower Matrix, it just doesn’t land in your first quadrant. This matrix, created by the 34th president of the United States, is a box that prioritizes tasks on scales of importance and urgency. The first quadrant is where tasks land that are both important and demand your immediate attention. Unless you’re a journalist, writing is not often something that lands daily in quadrant one. It’s more likely to land in quadrant two — important, but not urgent … yet.

As my favorite cartoon character, Calvin, accurately notes above, it’s usually a deadline that kicks creativity into gear, and that’s what led to me finally sitting down to write this blog post, which is actually due the day I am writing it. For me, writing is just too easy to find excuses to put off: I need a few hours of uninterrupted time, I need a walk to think of something to write about, I need to be more alert, I need something to drink, I need something to eat, I need to throw in a load of laundry, I need to respond to this email … the list goes on. You have the same excuses. We all do. If we didn’t, there wouldn’t be over 2,000 results on a quick Amazon search of “procrastination book.” (I’d like to note, however, I did not just distract myself with an Amazon holiday shop while searching for that statistic. So that’s progress!) If you’re reading this, you may be procrastinating writing your application essay and/or short answers. Or you are living with someone who is. If that is indeed the case, read on!

Given my own inclinations, I have no words of great wisdom on this topic, either on how to motivate yourself, or how to motivate your child to just get it done. For some, “eating the frog,” in the words of Brian Tracy, is the way to go. Do the hard thing first. For others, it’s better to attack a routine procrastination problem with an “atomic habit,” a la’ James Clear. If you know you always procrastinate writing your blog post, for example, make a small habit towards writing the post every day, like brainstorming ideas first thing in the morning. If you make it a habit, you won’t think about the big looming deadline. For others, it’s the “big looming” feeling that’s the problem, or, relatedly, the pursuit of perfectionism, both of which can be significant contributors to procrastination. Fear of failure, or not presenting one’s best work, can result in doing nothing at all. This is the kind of procrastination that can have significant impact in the context of admissions.

One of my children has also struggled with this. When applying to college, I swore I would not nag her about her upcoming deadlines. (I did not consider periodic gentle reminders in the car on the way to school as nagging, but I realize she may not agree). As the deadlines grew near, and I didn’t know whether she had started work on her essays, I began to feel a low-level thrum of anxiety. I was never fully panicked; she was a responsible student, and I knew she would get them done. But what I finally realized was that my anxiety was not about her; it was about me. I was worried that she would ask me to provide feedback too close to the deadlines to incorporate any changes, or that she would submit something that could have been better with my counsel (especially given my profession). One particularly stressful deadline happened when she was emailing me her essays in between classes for an application that was due that day (sound familiar?). Genuine admission: I read the email and decided not to respond. I decided that the lesson of the danger of procrastinating was more important than the application (in all fairness, it was not her top choice school, so the decision was not exactly Sophie’s Choice caliber). “HA!” I thought to myself as I read it and moved on. “Now she’ll learn not to do things at the last minute and think that I’ll come to the rescue! This is a lesson she needs to learn!”

Yet another in a long line of misguided parenting decisions. Ever resourceful, when she didn’t get a response from me in a timely fashion she sent it to her father, who, unaware of my Machiavellian mom scheme, jumped to her aid and reviewed the essay. She submitted it before the end of the day. Also smart on her part was that she didn’t tell me about her father’s rescue, knowing that a lecture on better time management was in store if I found out. As a final nail in the coffin to my failed attempt, not only was she admitted to the school, but she was also admitted to the Honors Program. With a scholarship. (Take THAT, Mom!!) Lesson learned? Not exactly.

Since that time, my daughter has been in college and has not been rescued from her procrastination by any of her family. She has had to learn these lessons on her own. Sometimes the lesson is learned, sometimes it isn’t. What’s really learned, at the end of the day, goes back to the trusty Eisenhower Matrix. The things that are important and urgent get done on time. They may not get done as well, but they get done. Sometimes, as Calvin wisely notes, they even get done well. We all know people who claim that they do their best work when under a deadline. I doubt this blog post is in that category, but more importantly, it’s done.

Therefore! Students, if you have not yet finished — or even started — your application writing, first, take heart. You are not alone. In fact, almost half of our applicant pool last year submitted their writing section within 48 hours of the application deadline, January 15 (NOTE: YOU HAVE UNTIL JANUARY 15!). However, also know this: most of the time, writing at the last minute does not actually produce the best work. Good writing is good rewriting, and if you do not have time to ask a trusted adult to review it and incorporate their helpful feedback before submitting it, it is likely that your work will not be as strong. This is because you are still an emerging writer. If you were able to compile an outstanding work of writing completely on your own at your age, you wouldn’t need to go to school. So, give yourself, and for your own self-preservation, those around you, time to carefully review and then rewrite your work as necessary. Your writing will be better … I promise. Your winter break will also be better the sooner you get the work done ... I promise.

Parents/guardians, if you, like me, have a child who is prone to procrastinate, first, acknowledge that they are not the only ones in the world who put things off. (And in some cases, like mine, perhaps they have your genetic code to thank.) It is okay. Plenty a procrastinator has been admitted to Loomis Chaffee, is enrolled here now, and doing just fine being taught by adults who are procrastinators themselves. Try to resist the urge to cajole them. Yes, our lives would be so much easier if they would just get the work done. But it’s not our lives that are important in this scenario. If your child submits work sight unseen, they still have every reasonable chance of admission to Loomis as much as those who submitted work seen by many. They also may be denied — just as those who submitted their essays months ago. An admission decision will never be solely due to the writing. There is never one singular reason behind an admission decision. In my experience, nine times out of ten, students end up where they are meant to be. It’s not worth ruining your New Year’s for.

To that end, maybe my New Year’s resolution for 2024 will be “do not write any blog posts the day they are due.” I know it sure feels good when the writing is done. Good luck, eat that frog, and I look forward to reading excellent writing on applications in the new year!