Not just chickens run around with their heads cut off

So it seems that since returning all I’ve been doing is running in circles, head cut off, and just screaming for some time to breath and possible try to re attach my head – I hear they’re necessary, after all. And while abroad was breathless and  I was continuously on the move, it was simple. And so I think I get it now: I’m not screaming for time, I’m shouting for simplicity. In fact, I’m doing so at the top of my lungs. Here, things are cluttered – socially, there are ties we have to uphold, appearances that “need” to be made; emotionally, there are those people who you don’t realize make you emotional until you see them after 5+ months and all you can say is “dammit, really?”; physically there is a haggardness thanks to the countless appearances and emotions and school and pressures that make you look as though you’ve fought a war and trudged to class all in the same day. And with rush finally ending this weekend – some could say this is a social war in itself – I’m hoping to find the time to take a breath and rescrew my head to my flailing body. Until then, the chicken metaphor still stands. You’d think after years of overinvolvement my motivated, ambitious, “must do everything” self would’ve learned…alas, the cons of being so Type A.

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