Learning To Relax

After listening to Skrillex, I felt a stroke go off somewhere in the branches.

It's hard to register that after almost three months of school, I'm still nowhere well-adjusted.

I kid.

I'm so put together by my assignments, projects,  quizzes, midterms, and incoming finals, that the thought of a semester closing in also puts me into a total blackout.

"What am I going to do? Who am I going to call? Without sounding invasive or alcoholic, when and with whom am I going for drinks? No, really." 

I've got a condition that's to be the stress responsible for my lack of care toward any holiday commitments; that is to say, I'm definitely doing a lot less "Let's catch up" during the holidays, because I'm just not that good with time.

I remember the first definition of time given by a high school tutor who, you guessed it, had no tolerance for tardiness. Mr. Tan, for the lack of originality to which his last name still escapes me today, had the discipline of a rod. He was a handsome man with strictures so unbendable it made an Encik squirm. That included (and never limits to) "no eating", "no side chatters", and "no excuses for feebly walking into class late". Not even if you had a broken toe. His no-nonsense disposition toward the uninitiated was so astoundingly astute, you just had to try him.

I remember coming in late once just to test the waters. And they were scalding. Drawing the lesson to a halt, I was shamed, berated, and alienated by grating words that never quite reconciled thereafter. What the class missed that day, uncompensated by my lateness, then made up for with an hour's worth of even more "hazing", was something I guess I'll never find out. In my orientation experience, that was pretty hardcore.

The point is, after years of chafing with Mr. Tan, I'm still not that smooth with time. The irony somewhere in its physics still baffles me. From coming in late, to showing up on time, to actually learning how to maximize it, depending on how you see it, will always be as malleable as substance that just slips right through your finger tips. (There's also a reason why I do not enjoy yoghurt, but that's another story for another day.)

I guess when it comes to having nothing to do, it's best to be away at a holiday, lolling under the trees, than fretting over how and when to make full use of your time.

"Always find something to do, don't just sit there and stare at your shadow!" was something my mom would used to remind me of. But even "You're going to get Alzheimer's!" doesn't taunt me to plan ahead for my term breaks. And if it were really all that simple, I would have also been exercising more, sleeping earlier, and learning to relax better. But that's just all theory now, isn't it?