I never have enough time, ever. Even when I’m sitting down in my free time, I’m actually just counting down the minutes before something else has to be done.
While my life is hectic and there is always something new to add to the list, I lived for a month without a job or study and it was the epitome of wasted time.
Sometimes I naively think, “Wow, a holiday would be amazing right now. Sleeping in, not caring what tomorrow brings!”. Every time I think this, now I try to remember that one summer where I really didn’t have anything to do.
The days passed relatively slowly and surprisingly I was constantly looking for something to do. I was pining for a textbook or even a menial household task. My parents house never looked so good, trust me. Remembering this makes my busy days seem like more of a blessing than an infringement on my 8 hours of sleep (that I don’t get).
I still wish for the clock to stop or even just slow down so I that could fit in one more thing (like my gym membership, that’s going to waste). This isn’t going to happen, so I’m just going to continue being happy with what I’ve got.