Every semester starts the same way: a fresh planner, a new mindset, and a version of myself who is definitely more organized, more hydrated, and a morning person. I make rules for this imaginary version of me with so much confidence—like this is the semester everything clicks.
Spoiler alert: it never lasts.
I tell myself I’ll wake up early. I imagine soft sunlight, a productive morning routine, maybe even breakfast. Instead, I wake up just early enough to convince myself I still have time… and then snooze my alarm until I absolutely don’t. Mornings and I have never been friends, and pretending otherwise feels like lying to both of us.
Then there’s my promise to go to bed early. I swear I’ll be asleep by 10:30, maybe 11:00 if I’m feeling rebellious. But somehow it’s always 1 a.m. before I realize I’ve been scrolling, overthinking, or replaying conversations that already happened. Nighttime is the only time my brain decides it wants to process everything—and since my nights are busy, late feels like the only quiet I get.
I also tell myself I’ll go to the gym more. In theory, I love the idea of being “a gym girl.” In reality, the weather gets cold, mornings are impossible, and nights are packed. I’m not lazy—I’m just realistic. There’s something humbling about realizing that sometimes your schedule just doesn’t match your Pinterest vision board.
Every semester, I make a sincere vow to drink more water. And honestly? This one works… for about a week. I carry my water bottle everywhere, feel accomplished, and then slowly forget it exists once stress hits. Hydration is a lifestyle I want, not one I consistently maintain.
Laundry is another rule I swear by. I’ll do it every weekend. Simple. Responsible. Except weekends fill up fast, and suddenly I’m wearing the same hoodie for the third time because it’s still “technically clean.” Laundry piles don’t happen overnight—they’re built through optimism and denial.
And then there’s the biggest rule of them all: staying on top of my assignments and getting them done early. I genuinely believe this one every time. I picture myself submitting work days ahead, relaxed and ahead of schedule. What actually happens is a carefully planned system of deadlines, extensions, and “I work best under pressure” energy. Somehow it still gets done, just not in the calm, color-coded way I imagined.
Here’s the thing: breaking these rules doesn’t mean I’m failing. It means I’m human. College isn’t just about productivity—it’s about learning how you ACTUALLY function, not how you wish you did. I’ve learned that setting impossible standards only makes me feel guilty when I don’t meet them.
So maybe the problem isn’t that I break my rules—it’s that I make them without enough grace.
I’m still trying. I still make lists. I still believe in the version of myself who drinks water and submits assignments early. But I’m learning to forgive myself when I fall short, because showing up imperfectly still counts as showing up.
Maybe next semester I’ll make fewer rules—and leave room for being real instead.