High anxiety. Dread. Feelings of inadequacy. Despair. All from mistake-causing, acne-inducing deadlines.
On the other hand, I have a completed new book because a friend asked me (on a podcast) for an exact availability date. I have a completed screenplay because a friend told me she would buy me lunch (lunch!) when it was finished. Another book is on my shelf merely because I set a daily deadline of ten pages a day before I could play. Without the deadline, none would be done: only half-done but for a finish line in sight.
Our body releases endorphins when we cross finish lines: when we cross things off our list, however small.
I started making to-do lists when I was eighteen because I desperately needed those legal drugs.