I am a student and a writer, and I love to read. I used to loot bookcases of relatives just to indulge my addiction. Of course, now that it’s mandatory I can’t keep up.
In my bag are books from all my courses; there’s a whole contingent of D2L words to absorb, read, attend, and respond to: when did reading become so essential? Some sort of reprieve is essential for sanity; a way of allowing myself to break free from the almighty word, that flashing neon sign in the sky that says, “Read me, read me.” It’s this: balance.
I’m probably the worst person to discuss balance: I didn’t get the memo back in the days when balance was delivered. I do, however, allow myself to indulge my inner child, the one who screams at me to have fun, to play with hobbies, art, activities, and the computer (who doesn’t know about Pinterest?). To that end I probably procrastinate my reading just a little bit longer than I should, because, you know what? I want to have fun!
Fun: creative artistic dates with that soul inside of my shell that loves to go to the art store and buy up paints and drawing brushes, or head over to bookstores to browse the new novels that I promise myself I will read one day, or walk to local shops to view the local artists on display and believe that one day, I swear, I will be one of them.
Sometimes a hot chocolate and warm socks are all that are needed. Sometimes a furry pet and a romantic comedy on DVD will do it, too. Sometimes giving myself 15 minutes of free time to doodle on the back of my textbook is the greatest way to balance out my stress.
Maybe there will be postcards delivered to me through Mail Art on the topic of what makes people happy? Maybe my friends will want to break free from studies and have coffee? And, maybe, just maybe, balance will happen.