It is currently 4:02 AM, and I have three problem sets to finish between now and 5PM.
Due to this inherent constraint, this essay will be brief. I am slightly overloaded. But I'm nowhere near the breaking point. And that’s what this is about. Forget being cool. The modus operandi for the next three weeks is to drive myself to a nervous breakdown. I will dive deeper into my classes, finish my personal projects, pack my weekends, and perhaps pick up extra jobs. If I average over 5 hours of sleep per night, I am doing it wrong.
I'm stress-testing myself. I want to see my breaking point. I didn't come to BYU to be "pushed to the limit." — I came here to be pushed past my limit. When Thanksgiving break finally arrives 3 weeks from now, I want to collapse over the finish line, a broken man with a broken psyche.
Over the next three weeks, I will say yes to everything. If two friends ask me to dinner on the same day, I won't worry about rescheduling. I'll eat dinner twice. No shortcuts. No corners cut. I want to see the worst that this place can bring me.
I'm sure that 10 am me will find me rather melodramatic. I can hardly stomach myself right now, coked up on 4 hours of math homework as I am. I'm sure I'll find all sorts of ways to try and brush this off over the next several weeks. But hold me to this. I want to die. Not because I hate life. Because I love it.