Why is it that, without fail, the grass is always greener on the other side? My life is a walking cliche. Last semester I was swamped at work, longing for the day when my to-do list would be tiny and I could actually take a deep breath. Now that that is actually the case, I am bored to tears. All I want to do is go home and curl up with a book. I am actually afraid to finish everything, because then what will I do?
I doubt that will happen. I'm sure I'll find something to do. But boy am I dragging.