I'm not known for having great discipline or stamina. I've always been more of a sprinter in all things. Combine this with my competitive streak and you can understand why my father was greatly disappointed in my failure to love cross-country running. I knew I'd never be the winner. I wasn't built for long runs, and just finishing the race was not enough motivation in my eight year old mind. Often I'd stop and walk just as the finish line came into sight. It must have frustrated the spectators, but I didn't care. I was almost there and the hard part was over, so I deserved a little break, right?
This was how it was in school, too. Catch me at the beginning of the school year and I'd have a binder painstakingly labeled for every subject, my agenda constantly updated, and my notes clearly legible. By April I would be shoving outlines haphazardly into my backpack, and handing in assignments just in time - or sometimes late. At least I taught myself how to charm my teachers into accepting the late assignments, and to argue for better grades - two skills that actually have had bearing on my success as an introvert living in an extrovert world.
Plus I've managed to convince you you're reading a bona fide post, when really I'm just rambling about my brinksmanship. I WIN!