Why, hello there, and welcome to another uplifting column from your good pal Min. I know, you must be wondering where on earth I could be getting this inspiration from when I am busy gallivanting around in berets without a care or a supervision essay in sight? Oh no, friend, here I am.

The fact is, I think I may be one of the worst as they come, and if I weren’t already addicted to doing anything except the thing I’m meant to be doing, downloading Netflix at the start of my year abroad probably wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever had – the upcoming Gilmore Girls revival will be the death of me (send your prayers come 25th November).

To expand on my ponderings and shed some light on every receiver-of-any-task-ever’s favourite and most productive pastime, I took it upon myself to do a little research on the subject. For instance, did you know that since the 1970s the number of people admitting to regular chronic procrastination has risen from five per cent to around 26 per cent today? I’m pretty sure that’s only because Animal Crossing hadn’t been invented yet and there’s only so much time-wasting you can get from a space hopper race around the garden, but still pretty scary stuff.

In fact, studies have even shown that 99.9 per cent of people writing about procrastination will procrastinate by looking up helpful figures about procrastination (this one is less valid). Other activities I have taken on so far to procrastinate from writing this here article include: flying to Madrid, photoshopping my face into the Queen’s last Christmas speech, putting away multiple pairs of socks and spending a few hours pretending to be Adele and eating Brie off a butter knife while I excuse myself from social activities due to my ever-expanding and debilitating to-do list.

But why, Min, I hear you ask, do you choose to cover a topic that has already been covered again and again? Well, my dear whimsical (and, let’s face it, definitely imaginary at this point) interlocutor, let me tell you why. The truth is this: while I may be out on my own in the big bad world of Real Life (kind of), a self-sufficient adult-style person with bin bags to take out and a job requiring me to shower at least once a day (not that the job in particular is especially into the hygiene hype, but, you know, presentability and all that), I have reluctantly come to the realisation that this phenomenon is here to stay.

It’s only now as I sit here, compiling one complex sentence after another, that I wonder if I’ll ever escape this suffocating expanse of a mind with the self-control of a coked-up gerbil? When productivity slowly dwindles as the day heaves on and even the slightest errand or email to tick off becomes a quixotic task in itself as the oh-so-familiar pull of insignificant Snapchat stories beckons with its tightening grip on the cough-drop-sized amount of willpower I owned in the first place, I wonder what’s left to be done?

I’ve learned to get used to it in a way, I guess. It’s even come in handy on the odd occasion: for instance, that time I procrastinated to avoid revising the night before my English Language GCSE by committing to memory the entirety of Nicki Minaj’s then one-hit wonder ‘Super Bass’, which is now my go-to party piece for when people get bored of my (admittedly excellent) Shakira alter ego.

So while a helpful conclusion seems hard to come by and I am likely to be struck by this curse for the rest of my short-lived eternity, it does give me a little hope to know that we’re all in the same ill-fated boat. And whether it’s those last 200 words of an essay you’re putting off, or simply the trip to buy the morning baguette (wait, am I in France?), one thing is for sure: cat videos will always have your back