Lounging on the waters of Palmer Lake with my mother in an inflatable raft, I felt the spray of a nearby water gun mist my ashy shins as we floated toward the shoreline. My mother hastily took her oar to paddle us further toward the middle of the reservoir. 

We talked of work, the upcoming school year, and the success of the article recently published about Sophia.

In general, I am the type of person who likes to be busy. Constantly.

During a typical given school year, I’m running on six hours of sleep or less, a lot of caffeine, and adhering to an hour by hour schedule of my day, which I keep updated in the Notes app on my phone.

But I’ve been abroad for the last year and, while I tried to continue my habit of perpetual movement in Thailand and South Korea, I found it quite difficult to get back in my groove.

So, as I look to the future and begin to attempt to settle back into my normal routine of sending a million emails a day and procrastinating on homework by sorting my music library, I have come to the realization that I may have bitten off more than I can chew.

I think the best way to describe my fear is with this analogy:

It’s like when you do heroin. The first time you do the beginners dose. Then, you get addicted and start upping the dosage. Then, you decide to get clean and cut yourself off cold turkey. Then, you relapse and try to do the same dose you were doing before. Then, you OD and die.

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Lesson: Never stop not stopping. Also catch me looking like this mid-way through the semester: