I fear I’ve trained myself to ignore the difference between the pressure of a deadline and procrastinating until the last minute.

I find myself intentionally creating obstacles to avoid the things of importance on my to-do list.

To open my laptop and begin writing also opens up the most expansive window of temptation: the Internet.

Conversations with my colleagues lead me to believe I am not alone in this quibble. One of them deletes their Facebook account every finals week, just to re-create it days later. Another shuts off her modem to avoid any access to the Internet at all, but she admits she always find “legitimate” excuses to turn it back on.

But this type of temptation precedes the Internet: variations of the same story in the Bible and Qur’an portray the first man and woman as tempted beings, unable to resist the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge. I call on the cliché of Pandora who opened a box (actually a jar) to expose all good and evil in the world.

Am I allowed to blame them for my trouble of temptation?

In a way, it’s fascinating to think that humans are curious beings who have this inherent desire to know more, to know everything they can at the bite of an apple or click of a mouse.

But as Shakespeare taught us through Macbeth’s desire to kill King Duncan, dallying with temptation weakens our ability to resist it.

And so begins my daily routine before studying: Check Facebook, check both e-mail accounts, check CNN.com, check Facebook again to make sure nothing has happened in the time lapsed since I last checked it, watch Youtube video of “Bacon is good for me kid” that friend posted on acquaintance’s wall, and next thing I know two hours have passed.

They knew what they were doing when they named it “the Web.”

Inching closer and closer to a job search in the most dismal of industries – newspapers – I often think of how things were in the good ol’ days.

What was it like to sit down with only your notes and a typewriter and ping-pang your way through a story without the Siren calls of status updates and tweets?

A veteran journalist and professor of mine admits that when he writes today, he still uses his typewriter – much like the one he toted through Nepal in the ’60s.

He says he finds comfort with the way the keys feel beneath his fingers. I wonder if my fingers could adjust – it seems a worthy investment to seek some solitude from the seduction my MacBook provides.

And without such distractions, doesn’t this intimacy with the page promote the critical thinking that journalism and literature are about? Is my generation losing the capability to think the big, important ideas because we’re just so damn . distracted?

In one quest for productivity, my attention (deficit disorder) was directed to Macfreedom, an app created by Apple to disable any access to the Internet or networking for up to eight hours. It will only allow access to the Internet once your “selected offline period” has ended, or if you reboot your computer. This software is specifically created for those of us afflicted with Internet temptation. It’s completely free to download, and I was seconds away from accepting the terms of agreement when I realized it would be fruitless.

Wouldn’t I just reboot my computer once my curiosity devoured my concentration? Wouldn’t I just reach for my iPhone?

I’m not campaigning for the abolishment of the Internet (although, I often think of what the world would be like if newspapers just turned off their Web sites).

It has become an invaluable part of my job and my life. I think everyone in my generation can relate to that.

But I think we need a reminder that the deadline will show up no matter what and, we, as human beings are capable of producing thoughts from our own untainted minds.

I suppose this is a challenge, to myself and to my peers to imagine what it was like – that monogamy between the writer and the page. And leave the Bacon Kid where he belongs – in the Web.

- Chelsea Cook is the senior reporter for The Red & Black.