Every time I sit down at my desk to do some homework or write a paper, the first thing I do is fire up my web browser and start poring through Facebook updates and Twitter posts. From then on, in one to two minute intervals, I stop doing the work I have to get done to check again, just to see if there’s anything new.
It’s not as if I think the posts are important. One person wants me to join his vampire clan. Another wants to send me a “totally hilarious, no really” bumper sticker. Another wants to post a comment every time he thinks of something at work ticks him off (okay, maybe that last one is me).
It’s become an almost unbreakable habit. Over time, I’ve developed a kind of procrastination rhythm: type a sentence, check my Facebook, type another sentence, check Twitter. I’m even doing it right now as I type this column.
As I obviously have lots of time to find out someone’s become a fan of “I Feel My Phone Vibrate When It Doesn’t,” I decided to spend a little more thinking about why I constantly feel the need to distract myself. I think a big part of it is our generation simply does not have the ability to do nothing. If a moment of inactivity arises, such as thinking of a word or new sentence, our brains seem to want to fill the void with any of the multitude of ready-made options for instant entertainment.
That became clear after some experiments I tried to break myself of the habit. First, I downloaded a program that blocked out my entire desktop except for my word processor, which is supposed to remove temptation to click on any distractions. It worked well for a while, but then I found myself watching television, firing staples across the room and systematically over-sharpening pencils as soon as I couldn’t figure out what to write next.
I also tried writing only in the library just to isolate myself from an Internet connection, but the problem persisted. I would just resort to pulling out my phone and surfing the web or texting random people. Again, my brain simply had to fill the void.
After a lot of thought, I finally came to the conclusion that, while it’s certainly not the most efficient use of my time, my method of work still gets the work done, and, as the saying goes, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
In between writing sentences for the previous paragraph, I found a Facebook group called “I should be doing my homework, but I’m on Facebook instead.” Naturally, I joined.