Stretched too thin.

Stay awake until 2, 3, or 4 am. Crochet, browse the Internet, listen to music, write in my journal. Wake up 5 hours later to work more than a full day, come home, and do it all again.

Since beginning college I've thought I am superhuman, committing to more than I can feasibly do, and letting my personal time fall to the wayside (or until the wee hours of the morning). I remember the early spring last year-- spearheading the use of the new Point of Sale program at GVG, requiring approximately 20 hours per week of volunteer time, going to school 3/4 time (10 credits), and working 30 hours a week at my regular job, while trying my hardest to salvage a failing relationship. I found myself sleeping one night on, one night off, only to stay awake and do "nothing" on those nights I skipped sleep. I sat on the couch alone, staring out dark windows at the shadows of trees while I made doily after doily, and contemplated the meaning of life.

I changed over the summer.

The old me is back, and I'm scrambling to get done everything I want to complete; volunteer work, soils lab, academic analysis of service learning, play assistant-manager at the club, cook dinner for my roommates, entertain my social life, know my family, and try my best to locate my health. 3 rounds of flu in one month, infected sinuses, combined with a bout of pink eye, urinary tract infection, frequent fevers and nausea caused by antibiotics, and total exhaustion all lead me to believe I should take more time for myself, and less time for the other stuff. But how can I say no? The store couldn't be open if I didn't cover all the shifts I do, and I'm the second person out of two that can run the club -- so what happens when #1 is gone?

I enjoy being needed. I like feeling valuable, but at what cost?

I'm leaving soon. I keep telling myself this, but typing it out and writing it down isn't making time go any slower and as each day passes the knot in my stomach grows a bit tighter. Every time I cancel something planned for lack of time, every time I tell a friend to only count my attendance as tentative, every time I think about how fast my little brother will grow in a year, a feeling of sadness grabs at me. I shrug it off, but am wondering if 27 days from now I am going to break down and let it sink in.

I'm backpedaling. Wait, I have friends to make. Wait, there are subjects I need to study. Wait, I need to see my family. Wait, where has my time gone?

Why does moving away remind me of death? I'll be back in a year... but so much can change over that time, and there is so much I didn't take advantage of while here. Why have I chosen to leave the happiest place and point of my life?

It seems a bit illogical, but perhaps now is the best time to to take a break and move on. A deep appreciation has taken place of any clinging needs, and with all the turmoil I'm experiencing, I feel rather calm. My life is overwhelmingly positive.


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