January 16, 2004  
Volume 97, Issue 59  

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Time, time, time ain’t on my side

The Lone Star
Dallas Currow

Photo Editor

I have clearly taken on too much, and it now appears there is no turning back.

Pursuing a combined honours degree often results in scheduling conflicts, and I found myself having to overload my courses this semester. In addition to my course load, there is my job as a Gazette photo editor, a handful of volunteer activities and attempts to maintain a social life. I realize most of my peers are in similar positions and I am one of thousands who experience the insanity of student life, but as of late, I have found myself trudging across campus through the snow, only to suddenly realize I don’t even know where I am heading.

I know, my loss of direction can serve as a cheesy metaphor, representing my life and how it has spun out of control. Many people have reminded me that I “hit the ground running,” and that I need to “take it easy.” Everyone seems to have a cliché to offer. I know they are right and that I need to not “sweat the small stuff,” but before I’m able to do so, I have come to the conclusion that I need to find a way to make it through the 18-hour workdays.

How do I do this? It seems the day fills itself without my consent. In order to survive (and pass my courses) I have to create a schedule as fine-tuned as a well-oiled machine. The catch is, while being so uncharacteristically efficient, I feel that at the same time I’m losing the messy fun aspect of life. There is just no time for it. Please tell me this isn’t “growing up.”

And so, I ask, how can I wring some fun out of my super-saturated days? I thought that doing as much as possible would make for the best life. I’ve heard, “Life’s too short” and “Carpe Diem” and feel I should do everything I ever dreamed of doing, today. Then I remember, “Don’t bite off more than you can chew,” and realize I can take life “one day at a time.”

All of these conflicting clichés, combined with societal pressures to do something meaningful are perpetuating the frustration that I feel. Where is the time to do something meaningful outside the pages of my daily organizer? Is the meaning buried among the business, and consequently overlooked? Or does it slip stealthily into my unconscious, to aid me in the future? You see, I’m not really getting anywhere.

So, stepping away from the pre-packaged, shiny solutions of clichés, what does manage to permeate the schedule and make me smile in spite of it? A half hour at a piano, a few passing words with a friend, a cup of Lipton’s Chicken noodle soup or maybe just a couple things put off until tomorrow.



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