I think I’ve wasted every summer I have ever had. My summers normally consist of two activities: sleeping and lazing around. I usually reread "Anne of Green Gables," maybe go to the pool once or twice with some friends, but for the most part, I’m doing nothing.
When you tell people that you have nothing planned for your summer, they give you this specific look. The grimace on their face, disguised by a very incredibly genuine smile, and the arched eyebrow would be judgmental if they weren’t so jealous of the concept.
We live in a society that tells us we must always be moving. Relaxing time is wasted time. We believe that the more we overexert ourselves, the greater our reward, but that is simply not true.
As many of you are, I am so doggone tired of school. I have been pushed past the point of exhaustion. I don’t remember the last good night’s sleep I had. I don’t remember the last time I got to relax. I don’t remember the last conversation I had that didn’t revolve around how much homework I need to do or when I’m supposed to graduate or what my plans are after college. At this point, I don’t even remember what I did yesterday because I am so focused on what else I have to do tomorrow.
Summer is the first true moment of free time that I have to myself. I’m still working, but I’m not trying to balance school at the same time. Now, all the time I’ve dedicated to class and homework can finally be used for other, more monumental, things.
Do you know what I plan to do this summer? Sleep and laze around.
I’m not traveling abroad, nor am I interning at some prestigious institution, though I would like to do either. I have decided to take a step back. I’m not making a name for myself this summer. I have no plans to save the world, and that’s OK.
My summer of sleep is not going to be wasted. It is a time for me to fix my mental health and take care of myself. I can get a full night’s sleep again because I don’t have to be up at 6:30 a.m. to study French for three hours. I can learn how to garden because I’m not wasting all my daylight hours cooped up in a decrepit building, staring at impossible-to-read print. I can actually visit my family and see my nephews because laundry and cleaning and cooking and grocery shopping are not confined to my only free day on the weekend.
The only way to properly cope with life is to give myself some time off, especially since I know I won’t have that time once school starts again in the fall. Despite the pressure to make the artificial “most” of my summer, I think I’ve done an OK job so far. Taking the time to care for myself, is not a waste. It is a priority, one that I have let slip by far too often.
