The Psychology Behind I’ll Do It Tomorrow

We’ve all felt the quiet pull of postponement—that moment when a task sits in front of us, heavy and insistent, and yet the words slip through our minds almost automatically: I’ll do it tomorrow. It’s a small decision, so harmless in the moment, but repeated often enough, it can erode deadlines, strain commitments, and quietly chip away at our sense of control. What’s strange is that we usually know better; the cost of delay is obvious, the benefits of acting now even clearer—so why do we so often betray our own intentions?

The answer lies deep in the interplay between our emotions, our perception of time, and the way our brains are wired to seek comfort. Procrastination isn’t just a bad habit or a symptom of laziness—it’s a complex psychological response, born from instincts that once helped us survive but now often work against us. By exploring these hidden forces, we can begin to see that “I’ll do it tomorrow” is not a failure of willpower, but a predictable—and ultimately solvable—pattern of thought and feeling. Learn more about why simple tasks feel impossible by clicking here.

The Nature of Procrastination

Procrastination is one of the most paradoxical behaviors in human psychology: we know we are sabotaging ourselves, we often feel bad while doing it, and yet we still do it. On the surface, it might seem like a simple lack of discipline or motivation, but procrastination is rarely about laziness. A truly lazy person avoids effort altogether, while a procrastinator may work tirelessly—just not on the thing they most need to do. The student with an essay due tomorrow might suddenly decide that now is the perfect time to reorganize their bookshelf. The professional with an important presentation may spend the afternoon answering “quick” emails instead. In both cases, the person is active, but not productive in the way they intended.

Psychologists increasingly understand procrastination as an emotional regulation problem, not just a time-management failure. When we say, “I’ll do it tomorrow,” we are often engaging in an unconscious trade: we exchange the uncomfortable emotions attached to a task—anxiety, self-doubt, boredom—for the short-lived relief of avoidance. This relief feels good in the moment, but like all quick fixes, it has a cost. The unfinished task doesn’t disappear; instead, it lingers in the back of the mind, quietly generating guilt, tension, and an ever-growing sense of pressure. Over time, this emotional debt becomes harder to pay off, creating a cycle that is difficult to break.

This self-defeating loop is not new. Ancient philosophers puzzled over the same paradox. The Greeks called it akrasia—acting against one’s better judgment. Aristotle noted that people often fail to follow through on their own rational decisions, even when they know what they are doing is unwise. Today, neuroscience gives us more precise language: procrastination is the result of a tug-of-war between the brain’s limbic system (which seeks immediate comfort) and the prefrontal cortex (which handles planning and long-term thinking). When the limbic system wins, we end up pushing work onto our future selves, assuming—often wrongly—that they will be more motivated or better prepared than we are now.

Another key point is that procrastination is task-specific. A person who avoids one type of task may have no trouble at all tackling others. This is because procrastination is tied to the way we feel about the task, not necessarily the task’s inherent difficulty. A chore that feels tedious, ambiguous, or intimidating can trigger avoidance, while equally time-consuming activities that feel rewarding or easy may be completed without hesitation. This explains why someone can spend hours deep-cleaning their home while ignoring the job application they need to submit—one task offers a sense of control and completion, while the other triggers uncertainty and potential rejection.

It’s also important to recognize that procrastination can become a self-reinforcing identity. People who procrastinate chronically often internalize the label—“I’m just a procrastinator”—which can make them feel as though change is out of reach. This identity trap can be damaging, because it frames procrastination as a fixed trait rather than a behavior shaped by context, emotions, and thought patterns. In reality, procrastination is highly situational, and understanding its roots can allow for targeted strategies to address it.

Ultimately, procrastination is less about poor willpower and more about the complex interplay between emotion, cognition, and self-perception. It is the brain’s way of avoiding discomfort, but in doing so, it often creates even greater discomfort in the long run. By seeing procrastination for what it truly is—a protective but ultimately counterproductive coping mechanism—we can begin to dismantle the shame around it and look for solutions that address the underlying causes rather than just the symptoms.

The Brain’s Reward System and Instant Gratification

To understand why “I’ll do it tomorrow” is so tempting, we have to look at how the brain decides what feels worth doing in the first place. Humans are not purely logical creatures—our decision-making is guided heavily by the brain’s reward system, a network of regions that evaluates potential outcomes and pushes us toward whatever will feel good right now. This system relies heavily on the neurotransmitter dopamine, often called the “feel-good” chemical, though in reality it’s more of a “motivation” chemical. Dopamine surges in anticipation of pleasure, not just during pleasure itself, nudging us toward actions that promise a quick hit of satisfaction.

The problem is that the brain tends to value immediate rewards much more than delayed ones—a tendency known as temporal discounting. A reward you can experience in the next five minutes will almost always feel more compelling than one you won’t experience for weeks, even if the later reward is objectively bigger or more important. This is why scrolling through social media can feel irresistible when compared to starting a daunting report due next month: one offers instant micro-bursts of novelty and validation, the other offers a distant and uncertain payoff.

This preference for instant gratification is a deeply rooted survival mechanism. For most of human history, securing immediate rewards—food, shelter, social bonds—was crucial to staying alive. Our ancestors didn’t need to worry about completing quarterly reports; they needed to respond quickly to opportunities and threats in their environment. While this wiring helped us survive, it’s not always helpful in a modern context where success often depends on delaying gratification for long-term goals. The brain’s reward system, unfortunately, hasn’t evolved nearly as fast as our lifestyles have.

When faced with a task that doesn’t offer immediate pleasure, the brain’s limbic system—the emotional, instinct-driven part—often overrides the prefrontal cortex, the rational, planning-oriented part of the brain. The prefrontal cortex is capable of imagining future rewards and mapping out how to get there, but it requires mental effort to stay in control. If the task ahead seems overwhelming, boring, or anxiety-inducing, the limbic system steps in with a tempting alternative: do something else that feels good right now. This is why procrastination often manifests as “productive” distractions—suddenly, reorganizing your desk or deep-cleaning your kitchen feels oddly urgent.

Adding to the challenge is the brain’s novelty bias—we get a stronger dopamine response from new and stimulating experiences than from routine or difficult tasks. Novelty is a shortcut to feeling good, so our brains are naturally drawn to it. Unfortunately, most important tasks—writing a paper, preparing a presentation, learning a skill—require long stretches of repetitive work before any tangible reward appears. This mismatch between how our brain wants to get dopamine and how our goals actually deliver it is a major driver of procrastination.

There’s also a hidden cost to the instant gratification cycle: the brain learns to associate avoidance with relief. Each time we put off a difficult task, we experience a small burst of positive emotion—“Ah, I don’t have to deal with that right now.” Over time, this becomes reinforcing, like a habit loop. The relief becomes the reward, and the brain starts prompting us to delay again in similar situations. This is why breaking procrastination isn’t simply about “trying harder”—it often requires rewiring the way we relate to discomfort and reward.

In the modern world, the brain’s reward system is constantly under assault by technologies and conveniences designed to deliver immediate pleasure—notifications, streaming services, fast food, one-click shopping. Each of these offers an easy dopamine hit, making delayed gratification even harder to choose. When your phone can give you a quick burst of novelty in two seconds, the slow burn of meaningful progress feels less appealing in comparison.

Understanding procrastination through the lens of the brain’s reward system reveals that it isn’t about weakness or moral failing—it’s about a biological system doing exactly what it evolved to do, but in an environment that exploits those instincts. Recognizing that “I’ll do it tomorrow” is not just a bad habit but a product of our brain’s reward wiring allows us to approach it with more compassion—and more effective strategies for change.

Emotional Avoidance and Task Aversion

If the brain’s reward system explains how procrastination happens, emotional avoidance explains why certain tasks become the prime targets for delay. At its core, procrastination often functions as an emotional coping mechanism—a way to sidestep feelings we don’t want to face. These feelings can range from mild discomfort to intense anxiety, and the mind’s instinctive response is simple: if something feels bad, don’t do it right now. On the surface, this seems harmless; in reality, it can be the very fuel that keeps the procrastination cycle burning.

Many of the tasks we avoid carry an emotional price tag. Some stir up anxiety because they involve uncertainty—like starting a new project without clear instructions or applying for a job without knowing the outcome. Others provoke self-doubt or fear of failure, making them feel like a personal risk rather than just a chore. Perfectionism plays a major role here; for someone who believes they must perform flawlessly, even beginning a task can trigger overwhelming pressure. In these cases, “I’ll do it tomorrow” is not just a delay—it’s a psychological shield against anticipated disappointment or criticism.

Boredom is another underappreciated factor. When a task feels repetitive, meaningless, or tedious, our emotional resistance can be just as strong as with fear-based avoidance. The human brain craves stimulation and purpose, and tasks that fail to offer either can feel almost physically unpleasant to engage with. This discomfort might not be as intense as anxiety, but it can still be enough to nudge us toward more rewarding distractions. In this way, emotional avoidance doesn’t always mean dodging pain—it can also mean fleeing from a lack of pleasure.

What makes emotional avoidance particularly tricky is that it can disguise itself as productivity. A person might put off the emotionally loaded task by diving into easier, less threatening ones—answering emails, tidying the house, running errands. These activities provide the satisfying illusion of progress without forcing the person to face the uncomfortable emotions tied to the avoided task. Psychologists sometimes refer to this as “structured procrastination”—staying busy to avoid what actually matters most.

Task aversion is not always about the task itself; often, it’s about what the task represents. For example, writing a cover letter isn’t inherently terrifying, but for someone who has faced repeated job rejections, it might symbolize vulnerability and the risk of another painful “no.” Similarly, starting a workout routine may stir feelings of inadequacy or fear of being judged, especially for someone who has struggled with body image. These symbolic layers turn ordinary responsibilities into emotional minefields, making avoidance feel like self-preservation in the moment.

Neuroscience supports the idea that emotional discomfort directly competes with rational decision-making. When a task stirs negative emotions, the amygdala—an almond-shaped structure in the brain involved in fear and threat detection—activates. This can dampen activity in the prefrontal cortex, the area responsible for planning and self-control. In practical terms, this means that when you feel emotionally threatened by a task, your ability to make reasoned, goal-oriented decisions literally weakens. “I’ll do it tomorrow” isn’t just a metaphor—it’s a neurological handoff from rational thought to emotional impulse.

Unfortunately, avoidance provides only temporary relief. While putting off the task may reduce stress in the moment, the underlying emotion doesn’t go away—it usually intensifies. Anxiety grows as deadlines approach, self-doubt deepens when tasks remain unfinished, and boredom turns into frustration when obligations pile up. Over time, procrastination can become an ingrained coping strategy, where the habit of avoiding discomfort becomes stronger than the habit of facing it.

The irony is that many of the emotions we try to avoid through procrastination can only truly be resolved by taking action. Finishing a task can transform anxiety into relief, boredom into satisfaction, and self-doubt into confidence. But because the mind focuses so narrowly on present discomfort, it often fails to account for the positive emotions that follow completion. Learning to widen that emotional lens is one of the keys to breaking free from task aversion.

By understanding procrastination as an emotional avoidance strategy, we can approach it with more self-awareness and compassion. Instead of labeling ourselves as lazy or undisciplined, we can begin to ask a more productive question: “What am I really trying to avoid feeling right now?” The answer often reveals that the problem isn’t the task itself, but the emotional weight we’ve attached to it. And once we see that, we can start dismantling procrastination at its emotional core.

The Role of Time Perception and Future Self

One of the most subtle yet powerful forces driving procrastination is the way our minds perceive time—not as a steady, objective flow, but as a flexible, often distorted experience. Human beings are notoriously bad at accurately predicting how long tasks will take, how much time is actually available, and how we will feel about doing something in the future. This warped time perception feeds directly into the “I’ll do it tomorrow” mindset, because it makes tomorrow feel spacious and full of possibility while making today feel cramped and exhausting.

Psychologists call one key aspect of this distortion temporal myopia—the tendency to give disproportionate weight to the present moment while undervaluing the future. When you tell yourself, “I’ll handle it later,” you’re often operating under the illusion that your future self will have more time, more energy, and more motivation than you do right now. This imagined “future self” becomes a kind of convenient scapegoat, someone who will pick up the slack and deal with the uncomfortable task so you can avoid it in the present. The problem is that when tomorrow becomes today, you are still the same person, with the same habits, emotions, and limitations.

This disconnect between present self and future self is so strong that researchers have compared it to thinking about a stranger. Studies using brain imaging have shown that when people think about their future selves, the activity in their brains is similar to when they think about someone they barely know. This explains why we can make decisions that objectively harm our future—skipping deadlines, neglecting health, avoiding responsibilities—because on a neurological level, the future self feels like “not me.” In other words, procrastination is sometimes less about defiance and more about misplaced empathy: we care more about protecting our present comfort than about helping this distant version of ourselves.

Time perception also plays tricks when it comes to estimating how much work something will require. The planning fallacy—a cognitive bias identified by psychologists Daniel Kahneman and Amos Tversky—describes our consistent tendency to underestimate how long tasks will take, even when we have past experience proving otherwise. This optimism bias lures us into thinking we can start later and still finish on time. It’s the reason you might think, “It’s just a quick email, I can send it tomorrow,” only to discover later that it involves multiple revisions, research, and coordination with others.

Complicating matters further is the way deadline distance affects motivation. Deadlines that are far away feel abstract and easy to ignore, while deadlines that are very close generate urgency. The space in between—where a task is important but not yet urgent—is where procrastination thrives. In this “temporal no man’s land,” the absence of immediate consequences tricks the brain into treating the task as low priority, even if it’s essential. By the time the deadline approaches and the urgency finally kicks in, the reduced time frame often creates panic, stress, and a rushed product.

Another important piece of this puzzle is present bias, the preference for immediate rewards over future rewards. Even when we logically know that completing a task now will benefit us later, the future benefit feels less tangible and less motivating. This bias pairs dangerously well with emotional avoidance: we trade the intangible future reward of finishing early for the tangible, immediate reward of doing something easier or more enjoyable right now.

The irony is that procrastination actually reshapes our time perception over the long term. The more we delay, the more time begins to feel like it is slipping away, which increases stress and can create a sense of time scarcity. This in turn makes it even harder to start, because starting now feels like surrendering the last scraps of “free time” we have left. It’s a mental trap that reinforces itself, making tomorrow feel perpetually like the better choice—until tomorrow finally runs out.

Breaking free from this cycle requires learning to see the future self as part of the same continuous identity, not as a separate person who will magically develop better discipline. It also means becoming more realistic about how much time tasks require and recognizing that deadlines are psychological devices, not just calendar markers—they influence how we think and feel about the work itself. By reshaping how we perceive time and relating more closely to our future selves, we can begin to erode the illusion that tomorrow will somehow be easier.

Breaking the Cycle: Psychological Strategies for Action

Procrastination can feel like an immovable force—an ingrained habit that resists every burst of motivation—but research shows it is far from unbreakable. The key to dismantling it lies not in a sudden surge of discipline, but in understanding and addressing the mental and emotional patterns that sustain it. Since procrastination is often a mix of emotional avoidance, distorted time perception, and reward-system hijacking, the most effective strategies target each of these areas directly, making it harder for “I’ll do it tomorrow” to win the argument.

One of the simplest yet most effective techniques is the “just start” rule—committing to working on a task for only a very short period, such as two or five minutes. This approach works because the hardest part of any task is usually the initiation. Once you begin, the emotional resistance often fades, and momentum carries you forward. Psychologists call this the Zeigarnik effect: our brains don’t like to leave tasks unfinished, so starting—even minimally—creates a natural pull to continue. By lowering the entry barrier, you bypass the emotional weight that keeps you frozen at the starting line.

Another powerful method is breaking tasks into smaller, clearly defined steps. Large or ambiguous projects trigger avoidance because they feel overwhelming or undefined. Instead of “write the report,” set a goal like “outline three key points” or “write the first paragraph.” Each small step completed delivers a hit of accomplishment, which works with the brain’s reward system rather than against it. This incremental approach also combats the planning fallacy by making time estimates more accurate—you’re far better at predicting how long one small action will take than an entire project.

To address the emotional avoidance side of procrastination, reframing discomfort is essential. Instead of seeing anxiety, boredom, or self-doubt as stop signs, view them as predictable companions to important work. Naming the emotion (“I’m feeling anxious about starting because I’m afraid of making mistakes”) separates you from it, making it easier to proceed anyway. Self-compassion plays a big role here—studies have shown that people who forgive themselves for procrastinating are less likely to repeat the behavior than those who spiral into guilt and self-criticism.

Reshaping time perception can also weaken procrastination’s grip. One approach is temporal reframing—mentally pulling the future closer by breaking long deadlines into interim milestones. A paper due in three weeks becomes “draft the introduction by Thursday,” “complete research by Monday,” and so on. This creates a sense of immediacy without relying on last-minute panic to generate action. Another tactic is future self-connection: vividly imagining the version of you who has already completed the task, including the relief and satisfaction they feel. This strengthens your sense of continuity between present and future selves, making it harder to offload responsibility onto “future me.”

The environment you work in can also dramatically influence procrastination. Reducing friction for starting (keeping tools and materials ready, removing unnecessary steps) and increasing friction for distractions (silencing notifications, blocking tempting websites, working in a clutter-free space) aligns your surroundings with your intentions. Since our brains are wired to choose the path of least resistance, making the desired action easier and the tempting alternative harder can tip the scales in your favor.

Finally, accountability is a time-tested antidote to procrastination. Externalizing commitment—by telling someone your plan, working alongside others, or using public progress trackers—adds social and psychological pressure to follow through. The fear of letting someone else down can override the short-term discomfort that fuels avoidance. Pairing accountability with small, consistent check-ins prevents the cycle where you disappear into avoidance until the last minute.

Breaking the procrastination cycle is not about eliminating the urge to delay—everyone feels it at times. It’s about building systems, habits, and mindsets that make acting now easier than avoiding until later. By combining strategies that lower emotional resistance, improve time perception, and work with the brain’s reward system, you transform procrastination from a reflex into a choice. And once it becomes a choice, it’s no longer an invisible force controlling your time—it’s a habit you can reshape, one small action at a time.

More Resources

If you are interested in learning more, click here. For more information on this topic, we recommend the following:

Are you passionate about helping others unlock their potential? Our Board Certified Coach (BCC) training, approved by the Center for Credentialing & Education (CCE), equips you with the skills, tools, and certification needed to thrive as a professional coach. Take the next step toward a rewarding coaching career with our comprehensive program! Click here to learn more!

Procrastination: Why You Do It, What to Do About It Now

The Procrastination Cure: 21 Proven Tactics For Conquering Your Inner Procrastinator, Mastering Your Time, And Boosting Your Productivity

Eat That Frog!: 21 Great Ways to Stop Procrastinating and Get More Done in Less

About the Author

James Jenkins is a writer, coach, and Mental Health Wellness contributor.