Momentum.

I've never been too good at achieving balance. For me, it's everything in moderation, including moderation. I find it easier to live at the extremes than to try to strike a balance between them, especially when it comes to the work-play spectrum. For the last few months, I've been consumed by grad school applications. To avoid the risk of losing focus, I decided to essentially withold all pleasurable activities until after the deadlines. I'd been on a record productivity streak until last week, when I made the fateful decision to come home for Christmas. I just couldn't resist- I was growing increasingly weary of Boston, and I reached my threshold when when my furry friend Jerry reappeared in my apartment. Luckily this time, my new neighbor heard me screaming while Jerry danced around the kitchen table, and he offered to set up traps in my apartment. The mouse was still at large when I left for Washington the next evening. And just as I feared, I've lost all motivation to do anything of worth since I've been home. I know that the holidays are about merriment and relaxation, but now that I've allowed myself this temporary respite, it will be that much harder to reachieve my previous mindset. Ever since moving away, I've worked hard to foster healthier habits, and over the past fews days here at home, I've fallen right back into my old ones. All of a sudden, the distance between the present moment and this past summer seems considerably shorter; the last three months might as well never have happened. Ony now do realize that when you move away from home, the life that you build is as fragile a house of cards: any sudden movement could cause it to come tumbling down. Only when you return to that new life can you tell if it's still in tact. So as I anxiously await my flight back to Beantown, perhaps what I most fear is the prospect of returning to a fallen house of cards. Or worse yet- a decapitated mouse.