Whether it's a lengthy math equation, a four-hour car drive, or painstaking traffic, we always crave the most efficiency--the shortcut. The easy way out. The word easy undeniably makes our heart dance. Mindless. Simple.

Less work? A 30-day no-risk guarantee exercise-free diet plan? Need not ask, count me in.

At this moment in time, in my life, such a choice seems to be my most appealing option given these silent yet irresistible factors:

a. I am senior who just concluded her college applications

b. It's 11:52 a.m. on a Saturday

c. It's snowing

d. I'm warm under my blankets

e. Mhmmm hot chocolate

f. Yes, described above are just a few of the symptoms all late-teens experience: senioritis, an actual epidemic

I could very easily just stop trying, and allow senioritis manifest in its fullest bloom. I can drink that hot chocolate and nap, neglecting my self-imposed responsibilities, putting my currently cold fingers (typing away this post) to position back into the comforts of my pocket sweater.

My alter ego (or for you psychology fanatics--my id) demands for one hour of physical activity, while the dreamer in me admonishes any limitations. She wants to stop at nothing, to be stopped by no one. She would relentlessly push boundaries if she was the boss: probably bungee jumping, publishing the fifth edition of her magazine, and creating a non-profit organization--all in the midst of her second quarter of senior year. But, alas, her id and her youth and her leftover immaturity and school work and limited school absences and insufficient financial resources ($40 cash currently in my wallet, welp) equally forbid her absurdity.

Reality laughs at her, yet most importantly, she stops herself.

However, as I currently experience these two extremities bump heads, I find my growing maturity gradually establishing common ground. After all, they can learn from each other.

That doesn't mean I will fall for the incoming shortcut, but rather, pursue decisions with newfound thoughtfulness and judgement.

Friends, let's use id's impulsiveness as the dreamer's right hand, while our aspirations monitor the irrationality of instant glorification. Let us allow hard work become the greatest taste of success, rather than ingenuity masked as hollow triumph.

As we work our little tushes off, take a break and re-evaluate. Find your place and find the hardest maze to get there.

In its end, everything else will follow in ease.