As I write this article at the end of Week 2, facing an impending flurry of tests, essays and p-sets to do next week, I can’t help but scoff at the earlier version of myself who pitched this article on the second day back at school. Did she not realize how unbelievably lucky she was?

Yet, as stressful as my current state of affairs is, there is an eerie comfort in being busy. Over winter break, I found my days filled with seemingly endless space. The expansive three weeks loomed in front of me, and I couldn’t figure out how to spend my time.

As I fell into my usual free time routine of alternating between Netflix and grabbing coffee with friends, my mind began drifting to all of the other ways I could or should be spending my time. It was true — there was absolutely no school work left. However, I could attend to internship and fellowship applications. I also needed to book my flight for study abroad, go shopping for a new pair of sneakers and technically, if I really wanted to, I could be getting ahead on schoolwork for next quarter. Why hadn’t I started my reading yet? I had the time. There was really no excuse, right? Also, there were so many emails I needed to send. So. Many. Emails.

At least when I was busy, I had an excuse to not be completing all of these other errands. As a student on winter break with literally nothing else to do besides tackle all these loose ends on my to-do list, I couldn’t understand why I remained paralyzed on the couch, stressed about all of the deadlines. I couldn’t even truly relax or decompress because my mind always circled back to the endless to-do list. Why did I feel the need to be productive but continued to avoid actually being productive?

As my mind frantically reviewed my new list of demands, my body remained on the couch, unwavering in its loyalty to cushion number three (on the left side by the armrest, statistically proven to be the best cushion on the couch). The infinite time and space to be unstressed left me more stressed than ever before. I had the opportunity to be productive. I felt a strong urge to be productive. But alas, I was not productive. I was on the couch. And sometimes, that’s exactly where you need to be. I just wish I had enjoyed it, instead of becoming paralyzed by a self-imposed pressure to always be productive.

Contact Phoebe Quinton at pquinton ‘at’ stanford.edu.