post the hundred and third

This semester is going to be a busy one for me, I can already tell. I mentioned this earlier, but I have a lot of things going on in my life right now, and they're already starting to pile up on me. It's still September, for crying out loud. I can't imagine what December is going to feel like.

I felt optimistic (for lack of a better word) about this semester's prospects at first. I knew I was going to be busy, but that's not such a bad thing. I'm much better at organizing my time when I have a lot of things to do. This last summer drove that point home for me. I never felt any sense of urgency when the most pressing demands on my time were going to work and playing Kingdom of Loathing. I looked forward to a time in my life where I would be vastly more productive. It was going to be good.

In fact, it was good for the first day or so. I had three classes to attend and a lot of homework to do (mostly essays and reading - nothing too heavy), so I was planning on spending most of the day in the library. I spent the day bustling (I chose that word carefully, friends; "bustling" is the best word to describe what I was doing) from place to place, hurrying to get everything done. I felt a sense of fulfillment during the first part of the day, satisfied that I was being incredibly productive. As the day wore on, however, the feeling of fulfillment started to fade, gradually being replaced by a hollow, gnawing feeling in my chest. This wasn't something I was prepared for. I knew I was going to be busy, yes, but it was supposed to be a satisfying busy. I was supposed to feel gratified at the end of the day when I looked back and saw everything that I'd accomplished. No longer was I feeling good about what I was doing, but, just the opposite, I was feeling stressed. Harried. Frazzled (and that's another word that I chose carefully, dear readers). What was going on? What happened to my beautiful sense of accomplishment?

Within a few minutes, the gnawing feeling descended from my chest to my stomach, however, and I quickly figured out that it's difficult to feel a sense of accomplishment or self-worth when you're really hungry. I hadn't eaten hardly anything the whole day. No wonder I felt miserable. I think I made myself a grilled cheese sandwich or something and watched SportsCenter. Now there's fulfillment.