Mornings are usually the same for me. I’m usually running late because I couldn’t bring myself to get out of bed until 8:10 a.m.
Knowing that I have a 30-minute commute, I rush to wash my teeth and brush my face, dressing while packing my backpack and lunch. Then I kiss my waffle goodbye and stuff my grandma in my mouth.
I’m always rushing, too late to make sense of anything, and often leaving my lunch on the counter at home. If you see me around campus, I usually have my “can’t stop to talk” face as I power walk between the slowpokes in the Danna Center.
My slight disorganization might always have me rushing, but if there is something I’m neurotic about, it’s time and being on time. I know at 8:25 a.m. I have to be out the house and by 9:02 a.m. I should be pulling up into the West Road garage. At 9:10 a.m. I should be printing any papers and getting myself ready for the first class at 10:30 a.m.
Like most college students, I have everything planned to the last second. It doesn’t matter how it gets done as long as it gets done well and on time.
Time is an obsession of mine. I plan according to the minutes and hours it should take me to complete a task. I race against my own best time or try to make the most of it when I’m feeling diligent. Or I panic if I didn’t finish something on time.
Time has always been fascinating, but cruel at the same time. For me, it sets up the boundaries that I depend on to get work done. But if you rush through life, are you really living at all? Sometimes I feel like I go from assignment to assignment without enjoying it.
Lately I’ve realized that it’s OK to let go and go with the flow. I know if I don’t, eventually my life will become one big race against the clock.
I realized this over the Mardi Gras break when I had a whole week to myself. No work-study to do, no classes or meetings to attend. I sat one afternoon and realized how odd it felt to have nothing to do or no place to be. I had things to do, but it seemed like I had all the time in the world because there were no deadlines for the day.
With no schedule to follow and no stopwatch to keep track of, I just sat and watched TV without feeling guilty about some pile of homework. It felt nice, but more importantly, it felt liberating.
For the past couple of days I’ve allowed myself to sleep in a little more and to indulge in cheesy Mexican soap operas while giving my rigid schedule room to breathe. I know that I still have to get my work done on time and to the best of my ability, but it feels great not to always be rushing… except in the Danna Center. Slow walkers are my pet peeve.
Angie Hernandez is a mass communication junior and recently
elected Wolf Magazine Editor-in-Chief.
She can be reached at at
In My Opinion is a weekly column
open to any Loyola student. Those
interested in contributing can contact
