... nothing would get done.
I'm one of those people who normally sets a deadline then I try to hit that deadline early. I know some folks who work great at the last minute. I am not one of those. I can do it, but I'm not happy with it.
I've found since I retired that I'm still doing the same thing. I set a deadline for a book I'm writing -- "Let's wrap this one up by April 15" or "I want all reviews done by July 1." Then I work to meet that deadline.
Oh, yeah, stuff gets in the way now and then, but usually I can do it. I wonder why it is that I am deadline-driven. I certainly didn't worry about homework or chores or things like that growing up. I don't remember sweating any studying (except for New Math which caused me no end of heartache. I remember the appearance of that textbook to this day and I shudder). I always got reasonable grades for the little amount of effort I expended.
I think it's that if I set a deadline, I have a definite goal. I want to have things nice and tidy in my life because so much is untidy elsewhere -- let's face it, the world is in a shithole right now and there's so little I can do about it. Maybe if I manage my own time, the world will feel better to me.
Something to ponder on one of those sleepless nights, perhaps.
Or perhaps not. 😀