Looking back on what life was like a year ago—I believe I recall seven (7) people sitting on one (1) couch at my house—I remember what it felt like to pump out papers before the pandemic.
When I first started college, I referred to myself as a “professional procrastinator,” especially when it came to writing. Instead of starting an assignment, I’d put my creativity to use by finding all the things I could do instead and coming up with good reasons to do them. I’d call my mom because she missed me. I’d hang out with friends, investing in intentional community. I’d go to bed early in the name of self-care.