This week has been a master class in ADHD fueled procrastination which has led to 48-72 hours of absolutely panic writing two separate book chapters, both of which have had deadlines I've known about for a long, long time.
The longest and most anxiety-causing chapter was due today. I finished it but I can't quite vouch for its quality. The other one isn't due until July and I'm only responsible for a small portion of it as I'm collaborating with a few of my colleagues but this is no less anxiety causing because I don't want to be judged by these people for not only waiting until the last minute, but also for the quality of my work. Be that as it may, I did in fact wait until the last minute sooo yeah. We are discussing our progress on the chapter tomorrow afternoon. The only thing I was able to produce tonight was an outline and some sources I plan to cite. The actual writing will take place tomorrow morning and, if I'm lucky, will be done before my meeting in the afternoon.
I hate everything about this, but will this happen again? Perhaps. I'm not exactly thrilled about writing academic book chapters and therefore will, ideally, not have to do many more of those but the thing about my procrastination is that it has somehow always worked out. Have I developed at least one additional gray hair in the process? Probably. Will I make life changes to avoid this in the future? Sorta unlikely.