Somebody needs to slap me.*
About every hour I pull three Starbursts from a jar, take them back to my desk, and pray—if only for a few minutes—that the sugar will keep me alert just a little longer. My head nods down without my knowledge and I pinch my finger to say, “Hey, you’re working now. Just get through the rest of it.”
So I slapped myself, one magnificent smack to the cheek.
On Sunday night, I fell asleep at 6:30 p.m. I pushed my laundry and backpack to the edge of my bed and propped myself at an angle. I looked like a line on a graph. (0,0) to (6, 10). Straight, perfect, balanced. The conditions for my fourteen-hour nap.
Suddenly, it was Monday (and trust me, it was sudden). The slap back to stress relief was at its most violent. I went kayaking on the Charles. (I had already gone in on a Saturday to do homework so I considered myself worthy of a break.) The Charles, though brown and muddy, was a safe haven for my sense of peace. I felt protected in the middle of that river, inexplicably happy to be away from school and from my internship for a few hours. But I don’t feel it necessary to describe the trees or the sunlight or the bridges or the crew teams. No, you have to go see for yourself.
And this is what I recommend. Do something worth getting excited about. If you’re going to give yourself some time apart from something stressful, do something deserving of photos, deserving of a phone call that says “you wouldn’t believe how much fun I had.” So Mr. Charles River, I promise to see you again.
*Was not literal, folks.
Don’t worry. Be happy.