It’s Time to Get Some Sleep
Written by Lauren Smyth
“Can you do it?” my adviser asked, crossing his arms and staring thoughtfully at me. “Yes, of course you can. You’re up to the challenge. But here’s the thing. You’re not going to like it. And you can kiss free time goodbye.”
Well, I almost told him, it doesn’t really matter, does it? If I’m going to graduate when I planned, this course schedule is the only way to make it work.
And I like my job, so I’m not giving that up either.
And, you know, my free time activities? Yup, those are staying too.
And I’m absolutely going to get eight hours of sleep. Every night.
In plain English: With the course schedule I’d planned, I was going to be busy on a scale that made all previous semesters seem like picnics.
The situation was the result of overconfidence in Plan A. When I first came to Hillsdale, I had my heart set on a different major and minor. I had a plan, and I felt good about it. So, instead of focusing on the core classes, I took specialized classes within my course of study. But after talking things over with my professors, I eventually did what about 80% of college students do (according to the National Center for Education Statistics): I changed my major. And minor. And future career path. And made a whole new plan—and changed it again the following summer when I realized just how many things there are to do in the world.
That, plus the fact that I had spent freshman year soul-searching and taking major classes, left me behind the usual academic progression. If I wanted to graduate with my friends, I’d have to buckle down and get things done. Thus the wildly intense course schedule I had planned for myself, and thus my adviser’s good-luck wishes.
If worse came to worst, there was always that eight-hour block of sleep time. I could cut down on that and make up the difference with caffeine. Right? Right?
Nope.
Enter fall semester 2023. The first few weeks are good. There isn’t much homework, several of my classes are reviewing prerequisite topics that I still remember, and it’s sunny outside. Under those conditions, a student can’t complain.
Then comes more homework. It’s probably time to start thinking about term projects, which are due before the end of the semester and are on a bigger scale than anything I’ve had to work on before. (A research paper with original translations on the subject of economic self-interest during the French Revolution, anyone?) No problem. Right now, I’ve still got free time.
About halfway through the semester, some minor medical issues come up. Still, it’s not a big deal. There’s a doctor in town who can take care of those.
What do you get when you add college student + stress? That’s right, you get sick. In my defense, it isn’t me; it’s the eggs. But the result is the same. Two days of no homework, several unwilling floor naps, and endless electrolyte drinks later, I’m so far behind I can’t see the other runners. (Pro tip: If you’re running a race, you shouldn’t be looking at anyone else anyway—but I wasn’t thinking about that.) I spend several weeks trying to make up the time I lost during those two days, but nothing seems to work. I’ve got raccoon eyes now, and if you know anything about raccoon eyes, it’s that concealer isn’t great at hiding the fact you aren’t getting enough sleep.
By this point in the semester, I’m starting to feel overwhelmed. The careful attention I like to give each assignment has to go. There’s no time to fall down a Google rabbit hole of related topics or to pore over extraneous but interesting details. My workflow tightens up, and when I sit down, there’s no more procrastination. Fewer breaks. Fewer snacks. Less talking with study partners. Less time spent finding a cozy study space. There’s no time.
A few weeks later, more medical issues. This time, they require a trip out-of-state. Then to a town two hours away. Then possibly out-of-state again.
I’m feeling stuck. There aren’t enough hours in the day to make food, do exercise, finish work, take a few minutes of quiet time, and get decent sleep. But I can’t give up any of those things, either. No food? No work. No exercise? No brain. No quiet time? No sleep. Something’s got to go, but everything’s got to stay.
Now what?
Stressed, exhausted, and barely able to sleep without roiling nightmares about Adam Smith or some other dead economist, I picked up my devotional and just started reading.
On the first page was the answer to my problem:
“Sabbath is not dependent upon our readiness to stop. We do not stop when we are finished. We do not stop when we complete our phone calls, finish our project, get through this stack of messages, or get out this report that is due tomorrow. We stop because it’s time to stop.” (Wayne Muller)
So, the next day, I stopped.
It took the breath out of me. Standing-on-the-edge-of-a-cliff type of breathlessness. All those tasks—all those items on the to-do list, the papers and lab reports and readings—were all still there, staring sadly at me from my desktop. But I dutifully ignored them, and I stopped.
For twelve hours, I lay on the sofa, went for a run, ate nutritious food, and ran a light errand I’d been looking forward to. I took time in solitude to reflect on everything I’d been doing, remember why I was doing it, and remember who I was doing it for.
The next day, when I got back to work, I was refreshed. Somehow, my to-do list didn’t look so long, and though I didn’t finish everything I’d assigned myself, I got through the essentials and made a plan for the rest. I was back in the game, this time with a clearer head and a lighter heart.
And that was how I learned the golden rule of college life: When you’re overwhelmed, when there’s too much to do, stop. Breathe, pray, read that fiction novel you bought because of the cover, throw snowballs at your friends, and try again tomorrow.
Because college isn’t just academics. It’s preparation for life. It’s the experience of thousands, condensed into just four short years. And part of life is rest. Part of life is health. Part of life is mental and spiritual well-being. Part of life is friendship and family. Part of life is also work—but remember, that’s incomplete without the other pieces. The call to rest well isn’t an excuse to avoid work. Rather, it’s a reminder that work by itself is unsatisfying.
There will be nights when you just have to sit down and plug through assignments, no matter how much you wish you could take a break. That’s work. There will be other nights when you’ve cried over something you’ll laugh about tomorrow, so you invite a friend over to eat ice cream and watch silly YouTube videos. That’s the rest of life. And without that “rest,” no work you do will ever be enough.
So here’s your permission slip. Eat. Sleep. Rest. Play. Create. Draw that picture. Read that book. Go for that walk. Work hard. Play hard.
And above all: Rest well.
Lauren Smyth, ’25, is an economics major and journalism minor. Outside of starting arguments in philosophy class, she enjoys curling up on a bench outdoors (sun, rain, or snow) to write novels or articles for her blog, www.laurensmythbooks.com.
Published in December 2023