I’m an overachiever—at least, I think I might be.
I have a tendency to fill up my plate with more than I can chew, believing I can accomplish everything on said plate and to my high standards, as well. Often, I underestimate how much time some tasks actually take to work on, planning for one to two hours of light research, and forgetting how easy it is to keep looking for more primary and secondary sources. So, it’s no surprise when I failed to do everything I planned, or thought I could tackle throughout the semester.
It’s been some time since posting “And It Begins: The Day After Resigning”, and I had wholeheartedly intended to continually update the blog, while taking a full course load, devote time to working on my current WIP, and join a friend hiking once a week. But a part of me got ahead of myself, and forgot how much time went into university coursework. Quickly, I found I couldn’t manage all of the work I demanded of myself.
Early mornings and late nights saw me tackling Joyce’s tome-length novel Ulysses, churning out 1500–3000 word academic essays every week, and learning the ins-and-outs of writing and editing for digital publishing, while building an online magazine. Whenever—by some odd grace—I didn’t have coursework to work on, I spent my time zoned out, loafing on the couch, exhausted from the constant need to keep my head afloat.
Somehow, I managed a couple of hikes earlier in the semester, before the workload became heavy. Even got in a couple of yoga sessions, too! But, though ideas for the next blog post did strike me, writing outside of essays and website copy for the class magazine never happened until after the end of finals week. What writing I did squeeze in between the end of winter and start of summer semesters, focussed on novel writing. A treat I was quite happy to dive into.
I’ve always wondered how I use to do it. During my college years I worked part-time, turned in high quality assignments, spent time with friends, and still got in decent leisure writing and reading sessions. Admittedly, my degree field was not the same as my current. Learning German and Spanish from the assigned TV series and worksheets required less time than the university grade critical thinking involved in literature. But there was still a lot of work. My graduating thesis, a 6000+ word paper accompanied by an art piece for exhibition, delved into the linguistic evolution of Proto-Germanic, while covering historical elements, and drawing a comparison of literary elements, like the journey of the hero, in Beowulf and Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings—I managed to get away with English literature by taking the Anglo-Saxon angle. It took an entire semester to research, write and put together, but I still found time to write for fun.
My problem comes with the increase workload attached to a university degree in literature, and the increasing need to prove my place and worth. Time management could solve many of my issues and create time for blogging and novel writing, but it wouldn’t solve everything. I’m hard on myself. Which means I turn in unedited first drafts of my papers with minutes to spare, because a pressure to turn out detailed academic papers cripples me. The image of A+ worthy papers I dream to turn out and know I could turn out, the sort that get published in the university’s journal, combined with the knowledge that there are students already turning out these papers with confidence, causes me to question whether I belong among my literary peers. A stress that has me second guessing every word I typed. With academic papers there’s no losing yourself in the writing the way you would in storytelling and world building.
This constant pressure made coursework occupy larger chunks of my time, and meant blogging and novel writing, and any other activity like hiking or spending quality time with Will, got pushed aside. My summer semester’s nearly at end, just four more days left, and the half course load and relaxed nature of summer lectures has made dealing with this a bit easier. The fact that I’m also taking a linguistic elective and one literature course also helps. But, I’m still learning. For now, not looking or touching school related work over the weekends seems to help. It’s definitely allowing me to remove myself from constantly working.
What I’ve learned over the semester: Ulysses is a headache and a half to read, and a bigger pain to critically write about; digital editing and publishing, combined with website design is a lot of work, but a ton of fun; and, as much as I complain about the workload, I missed school. Even if it means I feel like I always need to prove my place there to myself.
It’s just going to take some time to figure all of this out.
Until next time!
