Until a few months prior to my high school graduation, I intended to become a newspaper journalist. While comical to consider how obsolete a profession can become in 20 years, I reflected this morning about my love for the paper and why it suited me so well.
- Tight deadlines. As an ENFP, few things are more irritating than being reminded about a deadline. I’ve always worked well on short time and receive a pleasant rush of adrenaline in defeating the final hour. To be given more time allows the person instituting the deadline to incessantly nag me about the fact that I have yet to complete the task. My counter: if you want me to complete a task sooner, give an earlier deadline, or have it relegated to the rear of my queue. Trust your own deadline.
- Quick processing. I was the kid in school that made two modifications to his “rough draft,” finished at the last minute, and received an A. Yes, classmates held a certain amount of contempt for this practice, but I was the one accepting the risk and receiving the spoiled fruit of my labor if anything turned south. Journalism encouraged the skill of first draft readiness, and if a typo or two fell through the cracks, that’s why we had editors… of which I was one as well.
- Teamwork. Hours were spent in the lab together, transitioning script to attractive layout, embellished by those who felt most comfortable with a camera wrapped around their neck. If deadlines are stressful, make it doubly so when relying on the work of ten others to complete their tasks to piece it all together.
This past week, I realized how little these skills translate in the “real world.” I wrestle with the daily emails flagged, emboldened, and painted red to remind me about the task due tomorrow that they’d prefer done last week. I operate well within it… at the risk of my soul being suffocated. How does one make a living at successful procrastination?