I am in the midst of that awkward period of summer after school lets out but before my internship starts. It’s too short a time span to really get another job or complete some sort of summer project, so I have essentially been lounging at home for the past two weeks with no set schedule and few pressing obligations. There are things I can do, but nothing I absolutely need to do.
When I outlined my summer, I knew I would have this block of time open with nothing concrete to fill it—and I was ecstatic about that. Three whole weeks of nothing! How incredible! I could dedicate my time to sleeping, running, reading the news, self-reflecting on my life, spending time with my cats and watching House of Cards. The possibilities were endless. And two and a half weeks after returning home, in one of those rare instances where expectations match reality, these past few weeks have been just as I imagined they would be. My days are filled with sauntering and simple pleasures. I have spent more time with my family in the past two weeks than I have in the eight months. I have gotten to spend meaningful time with my high school friends. I am by myself often, and I love it. I don’t feel stressed or exhausted or inadequate. And I know how privileged I am to be able to decide how, where and with whom to spend my time, and to base this decision almost entirely on how I feel at that given moment. That’s why it was strange when yesterday I felt like I had reached a peak of agitation and impatience with my summer experience.
I wouldn’t say I am bored. I am easily entertained and often intrigued by whatever surroundings I find myself in—boredom is rarely ever an issue. So I guess it would be more accurate to say I have become restless. I am no longer content with the idyllic pleasure of doing nothing. And it’s not that there’s anything wrong with taking time off or having a free schedule, but I am simply ready to move beyond that. I want to create, solve, develop, do—I want to act, deliberately and with purpose. Lately my time has been focused on learning, observing, listening and absorbing. These are undoubtedly important behaviors, but they are not usually thought of as action driven. I am ready take action, start a structured project, pursue a new experience. Just as quickly as I wanted a break, I now want to return to busyness and responsibility and even stress.
It’s interesting how desperately people seem to want to get away when we’re on campus—if not from the university, then at least from all the pressure and responsibility that comes with being a student. The argument can be made that many of us are overloaded and overworked—convinced we must excel in every facet of our academic, social, and extracurricular lives. This creates an intense environment that, while rewarding, is also immensely exhausting. So it is no surprise how eager we can be for extended periods of relief. However, when the semester lets out or the school year ends and we actually get that break we so fervently anticipated, we almost don’t know what to do with ourselves. We are accustomed to always actively being engaged in an assignment, activity or experience. I don’t think there is anything wrong with that as long as we can make our unstructured time meaningful as well. Breaks exist for a reason, and though I feel ready to move on with my summer, I still have a few days left. Even if just for myself, I want to make them count.
Michelle Menchaca is a Trinity senior. Her column will run bi-weekly in the fall.
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