Every morning at exactly 8:00 am, a divine entity wakes up with the determination only fit for the king of the forest.

By 8:03, he remembers he forgot to sleep for just five more minutes, which may drag on till 10:47 am.

Then he wakes up again.

Ladies and gentlemen, meet Mr. Boar-dom, a full-time employee of the Ministry of Tomorrow. Well, his official job description? Director of Professional Postponement.

Mr. Boar-dom genuinely believes he is one productive day away from changing the world. Unfortunately, tomorrow keeps renewing its contract.

His office contains three notebooks.

One is titled Goals. The second is titled New Goals. The third is titled Goals but Final Version. All three contain exactly one slogan: Start tomorrow.

His best friend is Mr. Motivation. No one has seen Mr. Motivation in months.

Rumour says they were supposed to meet every Friday, but Mr. Boar-dom kept rescheduling.

Every day follows the same military-grade schedule.

Wake up, stretch, check the weather, check football news, check transfer rumours, check whether yesterday’s rumour became today’s transfer rumour, watch one motivational video titled Wake Up at 5 am and Become a Billionaire, and lastly finish the video at 11:30 am and feel inspired, marking the end by sleeping again.

By afternoon, he finally sits in front of his laptop. This is the moment history has been waiting for. He opens Microsoft Word, looks at the blank page, and suddenly remembers he has never organised his Downloads folder. Three hours disappear. The Downloads folder now contains several subfolders named New Folder.

Despite Mr. Boar-dom and Mr. Motivation, Mrs. Excuse is elegant. Always well-dressed, never unemployed. Because excuses are always hiring. Every time Mr. Boar-dom thinks about working, Mrs. Excuse gently whispers,

“You deserve a little break.”

Five minutes later, “You can’t work without a cup of coffee.” After coffee, “Too much coffee.” Then? “You should begin fresh tomorrow.”

Mrs. Excuse has won Employee of the Century for 21 consecutive years.

The neighbourhood’s most annoying resident is Mr. Comparison. He knocks on Mr. Boar-dom’s door every night, especially at 1:00 am.

“Dude?”

“What?”

“Look at your friend.”

“What happened?”

“He just launched a start-up.”

“Oh.”

“And another one bought a house.”

“Oh.”

“And another one climbed Mount Everest.”

“Oh.”

“And another one became 30 Under 30.”

Mr. Boar-dom quietly opens YouTube and searches: How to disappear from society for free.

Now enters the main villain: Captain Algorithm. Nobody invited him. Nobody likes him. Yet, somehow, he owns everyone’s attention. Captain Algorithm knows Mr. Boar-dom better than his own mother.

Watch one cat video? Excellent. Here are sixty-nine more. Interested in productivity? Wonderful. Here’s a two-hour documentary explaining why you can’t focus.

Then comes another podcast, another expert. Then another expert reacting to another expert reacting to another expert.

By sunset, Mr. Boar-dom has consumed enough productivity advice to qualify as a motivational speaker, like some of the speakers in our country, who motivate in such a way that pulling a truck feels easy.

Result? Mr. Boar-dom still hasn’t started working.

His mother enters the room.

“What did you do all day?”

Mr. Boar-dom proudly replies, “I have been researching.”

Researching what? He doesn’t know. But it felt important.

One day, he bought a day tracker. The planner looked expensive and professional. In short, elegant. He believed buying it would automatically make him organised.

Well…

It didn’t. The planner is currently being used as a coaster.

He also purchased noise-cancelling headphones. Not because there was noise. Because productivity videos on Spotify and YouTube had them.

Now he listens to rain sounds, ocean sounds, forest sounds, coffee shop sounds, ancient Roman marketplace sounds, alien spaceship sounds.

Everything except the sound of keyboard typing.

One Sunday, Mr. Discipline paid him a surprise visit. Mr. Discipline is a strange fellow.

He isn’t loud. He isn’t motivational. He doesn’t shout inspirational quotes. He simply works every day without any drama. Frankly speaking, everyone finds him suspicious.

Mr. Boar-dom asked, “How do you stay motivated?”

Mr. Discipline laughed so hard he nearly dropped his notebook.

“Motivation?”

He smiled.

“I left that unreliable fellow years ago. I simply show up.”

Mr. Boar-dom stared at him as if he had just confessed to eating soup with a fork.

Still unconvinced, Mr. Boar-dom downloaded another productivity app.

Now he owns twenty-three productivity apps. Ironically, managing the productivity apps has become his full-time occupation.

Every Monday he spends 40 minutes choosing which app will help him save thirty minutes.

Efficiency!

His bookshelf is equally impressive. Atomic Habits, Deep Work, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, Eat That Frog, The Power of Now – all in pristine condition.

The pages remain untouched. They are decorative wisdom.

Saturday arrives. Mr. Boar-dom declares, “Today is the day.”

He cleans the desk. Adjusts the chair. Sharpens pencils. Charges the laptop. Refills the water bottle. Lights a scented candle. Changes the wallpaper. Rearranges the monitor angle. Wipes his glasses.

Organises cables. Checks the weather again. Looks outside.

Birds. Beautiful birds.

Maybe nature is calling.

Tomorrow it is.

Even Sunday isn’t safe from his delay and planning.

He watches a documentary titled Why People Waste Time. Two hours later, he proudly understands all the psychological reasons humans procrastinate.

Except stopping.

One evening, the neighbourhood gathered for tea. Mrs. Excuse, Captain Algorithm, Mr. Comparison, Mr. Discipline, Mr. Motivation (who finally showed up), and, of course, Mr. Boar-dom.

The discussion became heated.

Mrs. Excuse blamed stress.

Captain Algorithm blamed notifications.

Mr. Comparison blamed successful cousins.

Mr. Motivation blamed low energy.

Everyone blamed someone.

Only Mr. Discipline quietly finished another chapter of his work without joining the debate.

That’s when Grandma Reality entered.

She never raises her voice. She doesn’t use PowerPoint. She doesn’t sell online courses.

She simply said,

“My dear children, the world has never rewarded intentions. It rewards repetitions.”

Silence.

Even Captain Algorithm turned off autoplay.

Mr. Boar-dom looked around.

His dreams weren’t impossible.

His goals weren’t unrealistic.

His intelligence wasn’t missing.

His opportunities weren’t entirely absent.

What disappeared every single day were twenty little decisions.

One more scroll.

One more episode.

One more excuse.

One more tomorrow.

Tiny leaks eventually sink giant ships.

The funniest part? Mr. Boar-dom doesn’t actually hate working. He hates beginning. Starting feels heavy. Continuing feels lighter. Finishing feels wonderful.

But he keeps negotiating with the first 10 minutes as though they’re a hostage situation.

So why does Mr. Boar-dom feel unproductive every day?

Because productivity isn’t murdered by laziness. It’s assassinated by tiny distractions dressed as harmless friends.

Excuses wearing perfume.

Algorithms wearing entertainment.

Comparison wearing expensive shoes.

Motivation making dramatic speeches.

While Discipline quietly keeps punching the attendance card.

Today, Mr. Boar-dom finally opened his laptop.

No motivational music.

No scented candles.

No productivity mentor.

No planner.

No miracle.

He simply began.

The work wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t revolutionary. It wasn’t social-media-worthy.

But unlike yesterday’s perfect plan, today’s imperfect action actually existed.

And that, dear reader, is probably the most productive joke of all.

Because the greatest comedian in history isn’t the person telling jokes.

It’s tomorrow, who somehow keeps convincing millions of intelligent people that it will work harder than today.