Sometimes riding the sine function of life can be exhausting. One week, you’ll experience an extreme lull in purpose and productivity. Your calendar is defined by negative space and infinite time seems at your disposal. You flip your calendar to the next page, however, and a sudden explosion of ink assaults your eyes. Red, blue, black cavort across the grid, failing in their efforts to draw attention to individual happenings by instead simply blurring as an unruly mass. Looking from the calm oasis of the first page to the violent ruckus of the following, you feel a state of apprehension begin to rumble deep in your gut.
As a student and dancer, I experience this phenomenon constantly. Heavy rehearsals, show weeks, exams, projects, and excessive homework seem to house a certain fondness for each other’s company and so will concentrate themselves at particular points in time. Why that is I have not yet determined. Setting aside theories of causation, I’d rather determine at this juncture whether this trend should be regarded as good or bad.
On the one hand, life might be a whole lot simpler if my major commitments could be staggered evenly throughout the year. Each week would require consistent, manageable, moderate effort and scheduling would not be such a chore. On the other hand, I question whether I’d suffer from the lack of challenge. My work ethic and time management could deteriorate as I found them less necessary to maintain. Eventually, even my moderate workload could seem overwhelming. Its consistency, rather than a welcome trait, could prove taxing as I was forced to struggle monotonously along without hope for a recess.
Assuming this sensitization did not occur, I can hypothetically predict other issues arising. Free time, for instance, surely wouldn’t taste as sweet without a comparatively crammed agenda preceding it. Far from constituting a satisfying break from prolonged exertion, free time would simply be routine. If at any point this time grew or was compromised, I feel I could find myself bored or considerably ruffled, respectively. It is not in the nature of free time to be taken for granted; it is a reward to be earned. Strip that away, and you pervert what once was pure. You have drunk the blood of a unicorn, and though you reap some benefit, consequence will leave you hollow in the end.
These are but musings, but they have led me to the conclusion that fluctuation in workload is a natural and healthy thing. It keeps you sharp and on your toes, and it allows full appreciation of life’s calmer moments. In the words of Loverboy, “Everybody’s working for the weekend,” and that’s probably just how it should be.