It is a truth universally acknowledged, that an ambitious college student in pursuit of a successful academic and professional career must be in want of one thing: T I M E. (And no not the publication, nit wits.)
The Guess Who's 1970 "No Time" ought to be the official anthem for driven scholars at any prestigious institution of higher learning. We are all screaming the "I got got got got no time! I got got got got not time!" that leads the song out whether internally or externally. Except in this day and age, the You who we've got no time for is no longer some spurred ex, but instead is us, the driven scholars. We've got no time for ourselves.
As my workload begins to mutate monstrously and take on a life and destiny of its own, it's the basic things that get squeezed out. Sleep being the least of these.
Chatting with a friend as we hurried ourselves into a required 8pm screening of British General Post Office short films from the 1930s, I recounted with a genuine sense of glee and luxury, "I actually got to eat dinner today! It was so exciting!" and my friend express her jealousy of my good fortune. A little professor's wife in the aisle in front of us turned around and gave me a haughty look of disparagement. It made me pause and register just how ludicrous my statement was. I'm sure from her uninformed perspective, I sounded like some ditsy 'fashion merchandising' major in the fast lane to anorexia, but in actuality, most of us just no longer can afford to allot the 15 minutes required for dinner. And it is a sad comment on my life.
But it gets worse. This few mornings ago I actually took a moment to look at my reflection as I brushed my teeth, and realized with a sinking feeling in my stomach that I needed to pluck my eye-brows. I wracked my brains as to when I would have time to take care of this. I toyed with the possibility of taking the time out of my 10 minute breakfast, but opted to count it as a 'study break' later in the afternoon. As I recounted this to my sister on the phone (factored into my schedule three days beforehand), I expressed my astonishment at how I had managed to actually do my makeup every day last year--- something which I have since given up. Freshman year, doing my hair went. Sophomore year, eating lunch went. Junior year, exercising went. Senior year, nearly all forms of physical maintenance are going as I struggle to squeeze showering in.
Is this really how we are meant to live? When we cannot eat, sleep, talk to our family members on the phone, pluck our eyebrows, put on make-up or shave our legs (something that men should appreciate they do not have to worry about if only from a scheduling perspective), much less shop for new jeans when the ones we have are literally falling apart, without a paralyzing fear of getting behind schedule? Somehow I think we were not meant to grow up to be slave to our calendars. It tempts one to look up at the sky and scream "Where did it all go wrong?" Maybe if we could think of some answers to that question, we would have a fighting chance. But we just haven't got the time.
Oh goodness, I HEAR ya loud and clear! I have to admit in some ways med school gives me more flexibility to actually have a life and time to do random things like that. But I remember Cornell, and I remember being glad to have time to eat food and stuff like that! I love you and miss you!
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