Procrasti-cleaning and Other Ways I Avoid Doing the Most Important Task

In grad school, I once spent hours on my hands and knees deep-cleaning the grout between my kitchen tiles. I was mid-thesis and procrastinating hard. Later, I told a colleague what I'd done. She laughed and admitted she'd deep-cleaned her oven before finishing her dissertation.

Procrasti-cleaning. It's a thing. Let's make it viral.

Sometimes procrastination looks like cleaning out your closet, answering every email in your inbox, going down a rabbit hole on the internet about your latest obsession, or suddenly deciding that today is the perfect day to organize all of your books by topic and color. And sometimes, you really are getting things done. You're just doing them in a very different order than you were hoping.

Early in my career, I was consulting with a colleague about a client who would routinely put off homework and then scramble to finish it last minute. She said something I've never forgotten: "I prefer the term different time management when someone still manages to meet their deadlines."

I loved that reframe and have now used it with clients for years.

"Bad time management" can sound like a character flaw. I'm lazy. I'm irresponsible. I just need to try harder. But"different time management"alludes to all the hidden and unique ways we each make life happen for us.

Maybe you need a deadline to create momentum. Maybe you do your best thinking at night. There is no one right strategy to manage a life, and the most important "way" is the one you discover works best for you.

But my real breakthrough came from reading Ari Tuckman's The ADHD Productivity Manual. Tuckman emphasizes that "time management" isn't one singular skill, but a bundle of sub-abilities that work together. And when we break "time management" down, we can see just how many different skills are involved:

Organizing time management this way changed something for me. Suddenly, time management felt less like one impossible, monolithic thing to me. Broken down into its parts, it finally felt learnable.

I still clean when a deadline looms. I still make suspicious amounts of progress on other projects to avoid the scary one. But now, instead of criticizing myself for not following a rigid time management plan, I ask myself: "Which part is hard for me, and how can I support myself with that specific part?"

This way of thinking can be especially helpful for people navigating ADHD, executive functioning challenges, or procrastination, even when you genuinely want to get things done.

For example, instead of: "I need to prioritize better."

Try: "I'll choose my top 1-3 tasks for today instead of trying to prioritize my entire to-do list."

Or...

Instead of: "I should be able to finish everything on my list."

Try: "I'll plan for my actual capacity, not an ideal version of my day."

Or...

Instead of: "Why can't I just start?!"

Try: "What is the smallest possible action that would get me moving?"

One small shift from judgment to curiosity can open up a lot of possibilities.

Therapy isn't about turning ourselves into people who follow a color-coded planner and never procrastinate again. It's about understanding how our unique brain works, where we get stuck, and what strategies might actually feel supportive to us and our time management style.

I'm still experimenting with ways to align my daily tasks with what I actually care about, but now I notice my patterns and sticking points alongside my clients. I've learned that the most important part is getting curious and staying open to my own unique time management style. Time management isn't one skill we either have or don't have. It's a set of skills we can continually refine.

If this sounds familiar, reach out — we'd love to help you figure out your own version of "different time management."