It’s About That TIme
It’s about that time of night when my mind slips back into a state of reflection and introspection. It is three weeks before finals and I am sitting in the calm before the storm, the shit storm that is about to become my life.
RECAP– A month ago I got a paid internship at a sweet digital marketing start-up. Two Mondays ago I met Oprah. The following Tuesday I put a deposit on an insanely affordable Midtown studio. The following Thursday my advisor told me I was graduating a year early (that is why you work hard in high school). Last Wednesday I was elected the new Opinions editor for The New School Free Press.
A lot has happened FAST and with each impressive opportunity I see my free time dwindling to an atom’s size. BUT IT DOESN’T MATTER BECAUSE YOU ARE ACCOMPLISHING YOUR GOALS AND ARE ON YOUR WAY TO ACCOMPLISHING YOUR DREAMS. Right, you are very right. That’s the line I hear in my head when I work and am in class for 10-14 hours a day 5 days a week ( not counting homework). That’s the line I hear when I bail on other people’s plans and overstay my welcome in public bathrooms to scrape together a morsel of alone time. That’s the line I hear when I find myself downing coffee at 6pm because the day isn’t even half over. I honestly can’t complain (Although I just did. What? A girl needs to vent).
But I did spend my Friday night crying in Central Park while my bewildered boyfriend attempted to distract me with his Michael Jackson impression. I cried because, even though my head is somewhat above water right now, I know it will get worse (time-wise) as I inch closer to finals and take over fully as Opinions editor. And (fingers-crossed) if/when I secure this unfurnished studio, a new mountain of stuff to do will appear and will have to be resolved around the second week of May (the move out date for the dorms and the same week as FINALS).
I am scared. Why? Not because of all the past and upcoming sleepless nights. I am scared because I am afraid that if I continue not sleeping that I will just be one broken dryer away (Seriously, for all the $ I pay for the most expensive dorm in the country, you would think I would get working dryers) from being a shell that houses the most massive nervous meltdown.
Fortunately, my mom called and reminded me to rest and that is what I am doing–ignoring my growing to-do list and ,although this breather is short-lived, it is much appreciated. After letting my brain chill for a second, I have realized that I can thrive these last three weeks for exactly that reason–I ONLY HAVE THREE WEEKS LEFT. So if I have to cry on my lunch break, I will. But then I will walk out of the stall with as much swagger as I can muster and buy another cappuccino.