Throughout elementary and middle school, I was lazy and proud. Every day after school, I’d race through my homework, finishing within an hour, and play video games the rest of the day to reward my brief effort. My parents, unimpressed, called me out on multiple occasions. My defense: “I finish my assignments so fast, you never see me working. My laziness is efficiency in disguise.” For years, this reasoning was sound.
I ended my first year of high school unscathed and optimistic, feeling unstoppable. However, everything changed in 10th grade. My “efficient now, lazy later” strategy failed under the weight of demanding courses, including World Literature and Chemistry Honors. Suddenly, assignments became a constant burden rather than quick tasks I could easily check off a list. Productivity was no longer a momentary push of effort but a never-ending battle.
Every night, I’d go to sleep a little later, struggling through homework and studying, yet the assignments kept piling up. I’d waste hours staring at a blank document or worksheet, unable to find motivation and often becoming distracted. Each time I drifted off task, I’d consciously feel guilty, telling myself I’d “run out of time” and “regret this.” Nevertheless, I couldn’t bring myself to focus. On weekends, I’d list in my planner the work I needed to catch up on, only to barely finish half of it. As a lazy person, I struggled to balance my desire for downtime and my need to feel productive.
I began viewing laziness as my greatest weakness, a flaw I sought to overcome. Desperate, I worked on all my assignments for hours, determined not to fall behind. Still, unfinished homework, upcoming tests and soon-to-be-due projects loomed over me. Late at night, I’d collapse into bed, unable to enjoy rest that, in my opinion, I had not earned.
One Thursday night, knowing I’d be incapable of relaxing before completing my homework, I resolved to work until I was done. My primary goal was to finish the essay draft I had started earlier. However, it didn’t take long for me to slow down. My focus shifted from drafting to nitpicking. Suddenly, every sentence I had written felt wrong. I resorted to total rewrites, obsessively rewording and restructuring, but nothing worked. After an hour, my draft looked completely different yet remained unfinished.
I remained glued to my computer, driven by my need for progress and unwilling to rest until the draft was perfect. However, all that had come from my effort was a deeper loathing for the product. Eventually, I gave up, exhausted and stuck with an unfinished draft, accomplishing nothing.
Ironically, my push for productivity led me to be as unproductive as I would have been if I had instead given up. That night, I realized my approach wasn’t working — not because I wasn’t trying hard enough, but because I was trying too hard. So-called “laziness” wasn’t the problem — my inability to take breaks was. I used to believe rest was something I needed to earn, perpetuating the idea that downtime is inherently indulgent, but I understand now that rest is essential.
It’s common at MVHS to mislabel downtime as laziness. However, when we constantly push ourselves to “do,” we forget how to simply “be,” neglecting rest and self-care. Ultimately, efficiency isn’t about speed — it’s about sustainability. Without time to de-stress and recalibrate, we inevitably burn out. Therefore, like effort, rest is part of the work process. Finding balance is key.
Downtime is a fundamental pillar of productivity. It’s time we embrace it as such.
