The countdown to parenthood is proving every bit as interesting as I anticipated. It has given me a clearly defined deadline – the perfect way to plan my remaining time as a non-parent.

Choosing which books and films to get through. Or which restaurants to eat out at, which bars to visit, which gigs to attend. Whether to try and cram in one last lost weekend before the due date is upon us.

I always tell people that I hate deadlines, but throughout my life, the evidence suggests that I thrive under them. Professionally speaking, my worst work is almost always the work I labour on for too long, whereas the best often materialises when I’m told that “We need this now!”. At University, I tried to avoid doing exams at all costs, yet my exam marks were consistently higher than my coursework (the same was true at GCSE and A-Level).

Recently, I heard the following question posed on a podcast. ‘If you were given the option of finding out the date of your own death, would you take it?’

My instinctive answer was a resounding no. However, the presenter made a compelling case for finding out this most ultimate of deadlines. Specifically, that the knowledge of one’s death date would focus the mind on the question of time optimisation, while simultaneously eliminating any fear of the unknown. As soon as you know when you’re going to die, you’re free in the interim to go base jumping or make that unassisted skydive with the comfort of knowing that the activity won’t kill you.

I’ve never thought about it this way before – the idea that, as humans, we’re actually far more inhibited by our fear of the possibility of death than by the reality of it. And while it would be deeply unfortunate to suddenly discover that the moment of your demise was just a few years (or even months) away, at least you would be afforded sufficient opportunity to put your affairs in order and tick off a few bucket list items. Even in the worst-case scenario, discovering that your death was due tomorrow, you could still have a pretty tasty final evening of bedlam.

Of course, we always want to see what comes next, beyond the deadline. It’s why we often spend the final hours of a holiday discussing and planning what the next holiday will be. I have a deadline for getting things done before the baby is born, but rest assured, I’m far more interested in what happens after the deadline than in anything I may achieve before it passes.

But at some point, there will be no more next time. The point at which we can no longer play our favourite sport because our bodies won’t allow it. When we can no longer do our best work because our mental faculties and concentration levels are failing us.

Perhaps this is the biggest reason to embrace deadlines rather than worrying about them. They afford us a way to structure our time and make better use of it. After all, a holiday without a check-out time or a return flight booking is no longer a holiday.

Deadlines help us to define past, present and future. And maybe, just maybe, we need these parameters in place so that we’re able to fully live in – and appreciate – the moment.