The Tupperware Procrastination Party

A friend whose PhD thesis is due in 6 weeks can often be found cleaning the department kitchen.

“Who do these tupperware containers belong to?” she asks with vehemence. “Some people are so disgusting.”

She proceeds into thorough spring cleaning mode, removing all the glass and plastic ware from the kitchen shelves, and applying Ajax as if her life depends on it. She stacks the tupperware into a neat pile and affixes a note:

“Does any of this belong to you? Please remove by the end of the week, or it will end up in the bin. Thanks.”

My gentle suggestion that perhaps she has more important things to worry about right now does not go down well.

“This is important dude! No one ever cleans this place properly, it’s a pigsty!”

I admire her devotion to procrastination, and marvel at the ability of the human brain to deal with stress. In her mind, a slightly messy workplace kitchen that does not impact on the hygiene of her own home-made lunch requires imminent attention. Not only today, but repeatedly throughout the week until the offending Tupperware is banished to whence it came. Thesis writing is way down her list of priorities right now.

I quickly peruse the offending pile, wondering if most of it was mine. Of course, the thing about Tupperware is it all looks the same anyway. I sneak some, and place it back on the shelf.

Perhaps it will give me something to do in a few weeks time when it’s time for me to revisit my literature review.