This tech-free week is about to pose a serious threat to two very important numbers in my life: my GPA and my bank statement.

That probably sounds like a joke. After all, our generation has yet to resurface from the barrage of scientific studies that have been polluting the airwaves since the prehistoric days of phone antennas and non-wireless Internet, warning us of the distracting effects of Facebook and Twitter on study habits and attention payments. And no one can deny that those digits that come after the $-sign on Apple products are not wallet-friendly.

But what those studies don’t take into account is the unique ability of the teenage mind to waste a tremendous amount of time without the aid of mechanical devices that allow us to spend hours launching cartoonish birds with bad tempers into 2D orbit. The power of boredom is capable of fueling several class periods’ worth of daydreams with only a blank wall, a droning voice and sleep deprivation as inspiration.

In my ignorance, I allowed those misleading studies of teenage technology addictions to convince me today that ignoring my phone, computer, television and vacuum cleaner (see Day One) would provide me with enough time to fit in some old-fashioned procrastination before I started my Calculus homework. If I didn’t take time out of my day to post photos of Hostess-inspired cupcakes on Pinterest (seriously, see Day One), I would be able to bake two dozen cupcakes from scratch for my English class.

If I had completed my math homework before coming to this conclusion, perhaps I would have realized that I had set up a faulty equation: the three minutes it takes to pin a few pictures of cupcakes do not equal the three hours it takes to bake and decorate those cupcakes in real life.

Even worse, there aren’t actually 24 cupcakes sitting in the refrigerator. There are 21.

The other three are somewhere in my digestive system.

Thanks to my inability to connect to Pinterest, I will soon be unable to button my jeans, which will force me to spend more of the time I don’t have shopping for larger-waisted pants. Ca-ching. And until I’m allowed to access online clothing stores, I’ll actually have to drive downtown to make that ca-ching sound. There goes the rest of my 24 hours.

It’s now 7:55 p.m., my jeans are feeling a tad too tight for comfort, and I have yet to begin my math homework. I think I’ll need another cupcake to go with it.