It's something that I've bargained with throughout my academics. It's something I had begun an innocent relationship with that culminated in multiple breakups and reconciliations. It's something that smells nostalgic, tastes familiar, and lingers in my mind like a bad memory.
In second grade I thought, what's wrong with turning things in early? Back then I was an apostle, the type of kid that others despised; I turned things in a week before they were due, reminded the teacher about homework, and raised my hand for each presented question. Of course, my life was much simpler back then; being only seven and remote, homework was the only medium that separated me from the real world. As long as it was complete, I felt that surely I must be doing the right thing. Satisfied parents at conferences. Incentives of video games, or a brand new toy. Proud teachers. I had my life completely made at that time, and nothing else really mattered.
Then introduce the higher grades. I was expected to maintain excellence, but now while having more responsibilities. I had become acquainted with a math simulation game and became the best player in my class. One of the best players in my school, and I was already making myself known within the region. And I can remember those late nights of constant, nonstop playing, a clear obsession (I still face the aftermath of such a simulation; even today I try to form a number out of a set of them). With trying to balance, I could see the consequences: Bringing my mother my report card mixed with A's and B's felt like a clear disappointment to someone who has always been an "A" student. I could have taken a calmer, gentler approach to my learning, but the damage had been done.
From middle to high school, I pursued a variety of achievements and no-sleep periods in order to make sure my objectives were accomplished. I joined a bunch of clubs; I ran a marathon; I became heavily involved with programs outside the school.
The final straw may have been senior year. Taking one AP class more than what was recommended. Having college admissions applications to complete and having biweekly hour commutes to and from the city in addition to completing homework and studying for tests. Getting approximately six hours of sleep if I was lucky and not zoned out by that point. Of course I'm here now, but looking back, I sincerely wish I didn't try so hard to impress anyone other than myself. But what could I do? Being raised to amaze gave me something I could specialize in. It was my marketing brand. I (thought that I) had no other choice.
So, there's a reason why so many opportunities may come your way: probably not so that you can fulfill them all, but instead so that you can say a simple "no" to some of them that don't seem as important to you. Of course I enter the relationship again as I'm naturally accustomed to such a habit, but maybe looking at it as a friendship/acquaintanceship instead changes things?
