When I came to college, I developed a Thursday night tradition: I call my parents at 7 PM for however long it takes to talk about our week. At the end of the call, my parents ask me what my plans are for the weekend. My answer has changed over the semesters. In freshman year, more often than not, my answer would be, “rot.”
The conditions have to be perfect to rot. Shower goes unused; time has no bounds; scrolling becomes a habit. There are no plans for the day. Your only commitment is lying in bed.Â
After a week of classes designed to drain me of all brain matter, I felt that there was no other option but to rot from Friday night to Sunday morning and pick up where I left of Sunday afternoon.Â
This pattern continued throughout freshman year, but as sophomore year wore on, the need to glue myself to my bed with my phone in hand dwindled. And now in my third year of college, I’m unable to rot. Â
As one habit leaves, another enters. I traded in procrastination for productivity. After 14 years of formal education, I have developed a school-life balance. The need to rot comes from not taking pauses throughout the week, leaving only one option: full out stop. You are so physically and mentally drained that the only appealing weekend activity is chasing internet rabbits down holes in the comfort of your grubby sheets.Â
I finally developed a school-life balance when I let go of feeling satisfied only when taking six courses, the maximum. This schedule forced me to time my meals. Knowing that the workload wasn’t sustainable, I booked an appointment with my advisor to set a plan for the spring of my sophomore year. I reluctantly only took four classes, and followed along with the promise that a reduced schedule would allow me to master skills instead of piling on new ones.Â
It was revolutionary. I had time to read. I had time to eat at the dining hall. I had time to journal.Â
When you feel like you have more time for yourself, the less you feel it necessary to protect any free time you have by rotting.Â
Still, there are times when I feel it is right to rot. However, it doesn’t feel the same as it once did. I’m aware of how dehydrated I am, of how my head hurts, and of the anxiety in my chest. Rotting is an unhealthy habit built to ignore issues causing you stress. You think, if I lay down and scroll I’ll feel better. No. The continuous switching between apps and swiping of two-second clips only heightens the stress you’re trying to swat away. Doom scrolling begins to feel like doom.Â
Nowadays, I hit a point during my attempted rotting where I need to get up. Get up and walk, or drive, or anything that transforms potential energy into kinetic energy.Â
My new inability to rot taught me that I need to be doing something, even when it’s considered nothing. An ideal weekend consists of booking a hair appointment, wandering around town, and heading home to binge a new show. Throw in doing laundry and a two-hour nap, and that’s a complete weekend.Â
Rotting is escapism, and the reason you rot is that your life doesn’t include time to pause. Consider a pause in your day a “mini-rot,” without the greasy hair and instead with moments for refreshment. It took me two years to figure out that balancing life is what makes you want to be living it all the time. Let it only take you reading this article to live all the time.