We spend our whole lives testing limits.  Pain, alcohol tolerance, speed, strength, etc.  And sometimes, no matter how many times we are confronted with these limits, we never accept that they really exist.  You go out for the enth time and end up sick in a bush…again.  You go to lift that box full of books even though you KNOW you’ll hurt yourself.

  Some limits, however, are not as clearly laid out.  Particularly, for me at least, are the limits to what I can do in a day.  I always stretch myself too thin and consistently double-book myself, ESPECIALLY when it involves helping someone else.  I am that person who tries to fit in helping someone move before work or stays up all night to support a friend even though I have an early class.  This is just what I do.  More recently, I have tried to take on as many jobs as possible because I am finally able to do so (see extensive rant on anxiety, depression, and sleep apnea).  Being so far in debt and feeling like I’m constantly taking advantage of peoples’ generosity gets tiresome after a while.  Thus, I push myself to work as much as humanly possible.  I never have been able to tell if I just have sever issues with obligations or if I’m just masochistic.

  What I have a difficulty coming to terms with is that “humanly possible” is different for all humans.  My possible is very different from the double-honours-in-chemistry-and-physics’ possible.  Despite my limits being exponentially extended, they are still there and they are still much lower than a lot of people.  And THIS I have finally accepted.

  I started this summer with one job, working about 12 hours a week.  Then I got a graveyard shift job.  This I decide quite quickly was not going to work out.  Lame monetarily, but big gold star for realizing after only one bout of tears.  About halfway through the school break I started my second job in the Student Union Building bringing me to around 20 hours a week.  This worked out great.  I had time to slowly move into the work, I already knew most of the people, and it was all the same hours of operation.  Fast forward another month or so and add one more job: Starbucks at the airport.  Despite being a little far of a commute, the work is fine and my coworkers are great!  I even get sent over to Airside a bit and get some bar experience.  Between all three jobs, I total around 40-45 hours a week.  Now add school starting with four upper level classes.  And add on that I was re-elected as President of the English Course Union.  I’m super stoked about it, but it is just one more thing to add onto the schedule.  It is definitely hard (considering I have never worked this many hours a week at anything but a comfy desk job), but, my family and friends are proud of me; I’m proud of me.  This is ACTUAL, VISIBLE IMPROVEMENT.  I had honestly given up hope of ever being able to work a proper work week.

  Downside:  Within a week of school starting, I had already fallen behind on readings because what little time I have to myself I am spending trying to shut my brain off, not reading about Reformation Europe or noun clauses like I should be.  I start to tell myself the same thing I always have: “If you would just do your fucking work, everything would be fine!  But NO! You’re a lazy good-for-nothing that can’t do anything!!!”

 But this time.  For the first time.  I say, “No.  I’m not.  I have done things in the last few months that I NEVER thought I would be able to.  So fuck you self-deprecation.  You don’t get me this time.  I’m more than this.  What’s the problem with wanting some time to yourself?  Who has ever benefited from pushing full-tilt 24/7 their entire lives?  Everyone needs a break now and again and just because I need longer breaks doesn’t make me lesser than anyone else.”

  This is where I learned my limits.  Sometimes, you just can’t do everything.  Prioritize, then trim the bits that can be trimmed.  Sometimes those things may not be what your parents or friends think are less important, but as long as you’re still functioning in society, screw ‘em.

  So, I quit the airport.  Maybe I could have continued working there if I dropped ECU or gave up my weekly gaming, but those are the things that keep me sane.  If I lose those things I’d just break and couldn’t do all the other important stuff, like working.  I’m still working out the bumps, but having accepted that there IS in fact a limit to what I can participate in in a week is improvement beyond my expectation and I will hold on to this as long as I can.

  As it stands, I will be working about 30 hrs a week in the SUB, keeping up on my four classes, doing my best to be a hub for the ECU, and maintaining my sanity through friends and television.  Sounds like a pretty good set up, eh?

  And for any of you that think I’m lazy for quitting a job so I could have some me time, or that I’m whiny for wanting a day where I don’t have to leave the house:

You can go right ahead and unfollow me, defriend me, and promptly go fuck yourself.

And who knows?  Maybe I’ll find some time to actually update this regularly and at a reasonable hour.