Burning the Midnight Oil - not recommended but sometimes required

When was the last time you pulled an all-nighter?

I’m not even sure that is the widely used and accepted term for it or if, possibly, I made it up. That term certainly got thrown around a heck of a lot during my Uni days and everyone seemed to know exactly what I was talking about.

For all of you perfectionist, diligent, well organised types that may be scratching your heads right now, let me explain. The all-nighter is something I have found myself doing after having either procrastinated to the point of no return or having over committed to do something I feel compelled to finish…whatever it takes. This is how I consistently spent my 5 years at Uni.

But those days of being a bumbling, fly by the seat of my pants Uni student are meant to be over and apparently we’re all meant to be uber Mummies and wives, high performing professionals with demanding and responsible roles, crafters and party planning extraordinaires. Haven’t you heard?...

Since finishing Uni, I can’t remember the last time I got myself in this sort of trouble felt compelled to stay up all night to finish something, except that is… until this week… where I found myself in that predicament on two occasions….

It all started on Friday at about 12pm when it occurred to me that the little projects I had volunteered to do for one of my best friend’s little girl’s purple and white polka dot themed party that Saturday afternoon should probably no longer have been a piled up and unfinished mess on my sewing table (my husband refers to it as our dinner table) but should have more appropriately, at the very least, have been a completed and folded up neat collection of purple items packed away safely in my car ready to deliver to my friend.

During a fleeting moment of feeling organised (probably while piling clear Tupperware containers into my trolley while grocery shopping – this always makes me feel organised…although I have recently realised that in the same way buying a trendy aerobics outfit does not automatically deliver to you a body like Miranda Kerr, buying excessive amounts of clear Tupperware containers for your pantry does not automatically make you an organised housewife) I had decided to start the party projects about two weeks earlier so I thought justifiably, I could feel confident that I could complete them without too much worry later that night once Amelie was in bed.

Unfortunately at about 1.30pm Friday afternoon, I got struck with either a terrible case of food poisoning or that horrendous and debilitating case of the gastro bug that you get only every once in a while (which even then is far too often). On reading this back, I’m not sure I even want the word “gastro” on my blog…but there you have it… Unfortunately my husband was out of town for work and wasn’t due back until late that evening so I was forced to muster all the energy and will I had to just try and get through the afternoon and get Amelie organised for bed. When my husband finally got home, he found me curled up on the sofa wrapped up in a woolly blanket feeling quite pathetic (I had reached the hot/cold shivery stage) but thankfully, he convinced me to have one of those anti-gastro pills.

So at about 10.30pm Friday night, I was finally able to sit at my sewing machine and get started on completing the purple party projects. Fortunately, what must be the longest movie in the world (Australia) was showing on commercial TV which kept me company for half the night.

At about 11.30am Saturday morning, I found myself shouting out (to whom exactly I’m not quite sure) with excitement and a hint of disbelief “I think I’m going to make it!”… And…I’m pleased to report… 8 handmade purple and white polka dot paper hats, 6 handmade personalized and initialed motifed fabric handbag/party bags, 7 ribbon wands, 3 enormous tissue paper pom poms, 24 cake pops, 16 cup cakes, 12 love heart biscuits, 500g of purple choc bean filled glass containers, 8 milk bottles with coordinating purple and white polka dot paper straws and 2 babushka dolls later, I had. And based on the reaction of 7 giggling girls and 2 rambunctious boys, I think what I had managed to deliver was nothing short of a purple and white polka dotted miracle! Phew….

Which brings me to this week…where I had two work deadlines looming and because months earlier I had committed to take Amelie to the Dora the Explorer concert on what is usually the first day of my working week, I started the week a day behind. So on Wednesday night, still high and possibly delirious from having pulled off the all-night purple spectacular…I put Amelie to bed, guzzled down two Berocca drinks and concluded that all I needed was one extra day and I could deliver on deadline number one…well, I did and by Friday (and months in the making) I delivered on deadline number two.

So having started the week feeling stressed out of my brain and not sure if I could possibly make it through the week at all, I now find myself at the end of the week feeling empowered (as in “Wholly crap, I can’t believe I pulled if off!”) and even a little proud (as in “Damn, I work well under pressure!”).

On delivering my completed work to my boss on Friday lunch time, I felt the urge to give him a nudge and insist on a high five but decided against it having earlier in the week already made admissions about having to reorganise what was a very busy working week due to a “Dora the Explorer related commitment”. Before quickly withdrawing my outstretched hand…. I determined that one potentially career limiting move was more than enough for one week.

And so I began writing this post feeling a slight sense of guilt that, after all these years, I still haven’t managed to shake my procrastinating ways…. but I also feel a sense of acceptance and justification that at least I don't give up all together and declare that it can’t possibly be done…I don’t entertain failure lightly…I trust in myself that I can complete what I set out to do, even if it at the 11th hour and comes down to the very last minute…painfully and regrettably by my own making. I sometimes have moments of doubt and am always surprised that I can pull it off, but somehow…I just do.

So are you all shaking your heads and tisk tisk-ing me right now? Am I totally alone here, or are there others that still find themselves in these sorts of predicaments?

Warning: Despite the statements contained in the last paragraph, I don’t condone or recommend this type of behavior…oh and… excess doses of Berocca quite possibly has the effect of making eye-lids twitch – is vitamin B somehow akin to caffeine?

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